First day of vacation

A little bit of the hair
A little bit of the hair
A little bit of the hair of the dog that bit me.
Thats what I felt like getting up this morning. Not from drinking... working!
All of this put me right at home on the plane from Seattle to Los Angeles.
Almost every seat in ten rows ahead and behind us filled up with what?
Hells Angels?
A metal rock band?
Maybe both.
The first guy onto the plane the had a thick scottish brogue, knife scars and a beautiful smile. After 20 of his friends found seats, he paced the isle shouting "#%*# this and #%*# that" and tearing through his baggage in the overhead above my seat. He finally found or borrowed a cell phone. The short story was, he left his helmet in the hotel. Every one called him Flannigan. Or Tommy.
I tried to place his distinct exotic aroma. It was conjuring up a deep memory. Then it registered. He smelled of pig manure and puke. After a very polite and courteous conversation with the hotel regarding his helmet, he finally slammed himswlf down in his seat and put his feat up on the bulkhead wall in front of him, up near the overhead compartment. In two minutes the feet fell and he was sound alseep.
Left his helmet at the hotel. I thought ahh, then it is bikers! But I saw no colors. Lots of leather, grease soaked denim. No colors. And talk of last nights rock show. Maybe it is a rock band after all...
The guy sitting next to Tommy spent about 3o seconds in his seat after take off and he was up. Maybe the smell was too much even for him. He spent the rest of the entire flight in the flight attendent station talking to every female attendent. "Bobby" was about 50 and compact. His beard gave him the appearance of a crafty battle wisened wolverine.
Watching Bobby talk to the attendents in the small compartment, he evidently had no filters in the personal space department. Every conversation was loud, and took place about 6 inches away from whatever face he could get into. I kept waiting for someone to show up and strap him back in his seat. But by the time the first foil bag of soy bits and cruchies were served, I figured out that the pretty young attendents were not only enjoying the conversation, they were eating it up.
Bobby seemed to have almost celebrity status.
The scaled tipped to rock band. Must be a rock band.
I turned an ear and listened carefully. This was not simply a road dusted leather clad despirado, but a genuine renissance man. Talk ran from art to philosophy. Then some politics, which developed into a also a first hand account of an assault charge.
I finally joined the conversation and asked a few questions about the strange groups mission. I told Bobby that I was guessing rock band or motorcycle club.
Turns out I was somewhat right, and totally wrong on all of my guesses. The group had flown to Seattle in mass to introduce a mainstream rock band I had never heard of - "Disturbed"(Bobby pointed out it was pop music, "which is simply the folk music each generation").
"Bobby" is Mark Boone Jr. An actor who has been nominated for two Academy Awards. He is part of the cast and crew of "Sons of Anarchy". They had flown up from Los Angeles to introduce the rock band "Disturbed" at a music festival in Seattle.
http://www.fxnetworks.com/shows/originals/soa/
http://www.fxnetworks.com/shows/originals/soa/cast.php