Thursday, April 30, 2009

Made it to Omaha. BRK 2009 here we go.

When sorrows come, they come not as single spies, but in battalions. This was a hell of a trip.

For whatever reason there were no direct flights to be had this year. Connecting in Houston, I noticed a startlingly high number of people wearing breathing masks. Eventually I figured out that the gate next to mine was headed to Mexico City.

My flight to Omaha was filled with people who had just come in on that flight. Why so many people were going from Mexico City to Omaha I do not know, but some inconsiderate fool of a Mexican in a "viva Mexico" hat sat in the seat next to me coughing and sneezing into his air mask -- but only when he wasn't lifting it up to eat his pretzels. I was so livid that someone would behave this way I got a headache. I was able to move to the one empty seat in the plane but we're all in the same pressurized cabin (as our Vice President so helpfully pointed out) so it probably doesn't make much difference.

Now I question my own responsibilities. Nothing like going to a stadium filled with 35,000 people to shelter one's self from a global pandemic. That's all I need is to give my annual hello to Warren and accidentally kill him through his weakened immune system.

Fortunately my own immune system is extremely strong, and I remember talking with a brilliant student one time who had been studying communicable diseases who once said that he estimates nearly 90% of airborne infections could be prevented if people simply washed their hands before touching their nose or mouth.

I guess I'm going to be washing my hands compulsively and I'll see how I feel by Saturday.

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