According to an article in todays Internet Washington Post (or NY Times) the airlines routinely sell more tickets for their flights than they have seats to put the ticket-holders in. Last year some 600,000 people who had bought tickets for specific flights were told at the gate to the plane that it was full and they couldn't get on. The airlines do this because a certain number of people book flights and don't show up. If they have refundable tickets, no problem for the flyer. But its an empty seat for the airline, so they overbook. The theory is they'd rather have some people pissed off than fly with empty seats. I say a ticket is a contract and overbooking is fraud. What does the Airline Travellers Association have to say? I'm going to look. Good night.

You need a car in Los Angeles. We were staying in a Best Western in Sherman Oaks which my client puts us up at because it is convenient to court. The museum was 34 miles away by freeway, less by streets. I went on-line and the LA bus system said that they could get us there if we didn't mind being on busses for 3 hours each way. We did mind. So we checked the taxis. $2 a mile plus the traffic penalty of so much per non-moving minute. Estimate $68 each way, maybe more. So we rented a car. Enterprise came and got Mary Alice and took her to a car. For $50 more we were able to drop it at the airport the next day. That sounds like a lot, but the Supershuttle costs $39 + a tip, so it wasn't really much and it took care of the problem of arranging our schedule to fit the Supervan's.

We drove to the museum in about 45 minutes - 45 really interesting minutes because we were on LA streets, not the freeway. We passed the AUTO RESORT, which I thought might be a motel but it was a car wash and lube joint, and any number of repurposed buildings. There is a certain screen set style of archetecture in LA and buildings which seemed like they might have once been some sort of Turkish Harem were now the B of A. Suddenly we were passing by Canters, the place to eat in LA (which we did, later) and pulling up at the museum. It's at the tar pits. Nice place. The art we wanted to see was a show of images of the American West. The lead picture was one of those wild 19th century landscapes showing craggy mountains, a raging river pouring over the cliffs, and an untamed forest. It was a knockout. The 19th century seemed to be trying to show the West to Easterners, or even Europeans. In the 20th century we began getting interpretive art. Several Thomas Hart Bentons (my fave). He, it turned out, mentored Jackson Pollack so there was a Pollack too, not that it had anything to do with the topic. There were several native American painings, and mixed in with paintings were photos from the way-back machine. We must have wandered around the exhibt for a couple of hours. Bought the book, too.

Stopped at Canters. I had meatloaf and mashed potatoes, Mary Alice had chicken soup. Really good. Tomorrow morning, early, we drive to the airport and go home.

We really had a plan in Rome. We knew the tours the cruise line offered didn't look very appealing. Rome is a big city, important, and we didn't want to spend our time riding in a bus and looking over people's shoulders trying to hear a tour guide give us kind-of true information. So we emailed a friend who has a daughter in Rome & got advice, and made our plan. Art viewing was the plan, and churches and museums were the sites.

We did catch a ride into Rome from the port ($79 for "Rome on your Own") which dropped us at St Peter's. The Vatican was closed. Our guide on the bus in said the museums in town were closed. We got a map - our plan had been to walk to the subway, ride to the daughter recommended spot and start looking at art. Instead we ended up walking to the Tiber, taking a boat trip (recommended except for the narration which was recorded and seemed to be a bit out of sync with what we were seeing). Then we consulted our map, walked through some narrow tourist-infested streets, and arrived at a plaza filled with tourists, Egypian oblisks, and outdoor restaurants. Each had a waiter who would attempt to lure us in. One succeeded but then vanished so after 5 minutes or so we abandoned our table and went on down the line. We found one with quick service , got the national food, pizza, and enjoyed lunch while we watched the tourists and the African vendors (illegal it seems) selling watches, handbags, and shades, occasionally, to one or another of the throngs of tourists. After lunch we walked, dodging scooters, over to what turned out to be Tragan's column. Its really tall and covered with incredibly detailed carvings detailing his career. None are visible from the ground. Odd idea.

From there it was a simple walk down two main streets to get back to St. Peter's. The tourist area of Rome seems, in retrospect, fairly small and easily managed on foot. The main streets are a noisy drag, but the sidestreets are interesting even if its hard to predict where they will drop you out. Next time, art.

I should mention that I found some stamps, which I'm always on the lookout for, but they were seriously overpriced - as they are in all tourist joints. I finally figured out that the stamps are not for sale to collectors. They are for sale to people buying gifts for collectors - ie people who don't know what the stamps are worth.

Got to go to a museum in LA now. Bye for now.

So we're staying at the Best Western in Sherman Oaks for some reason, and go for a walk to try and keep the body alive until we can go home. The roads are extremely large and filled with vehicles, but with the aid of the traffic light and some fast walking we cross. By the gas station are three definitely homeless people with several grocery baskets and about 5 dogs. Friendly dogs, fortunately. This morning we were walking again, and found the crew in front of a different building. They still had the dogs, but they were sitting on the sidewalk watching a TV set they had. I don't know what they had plugged it into and it wasn't very big, but it was surprising just the same.

Last night at dinner, Princess staged one of those pseudo-events that are designed to make the trip seem elegant and memorable – as if the experience of being on the ship and seeing the places where it stops was not enough. It was the Parade of the Baked Alaskas. We had just finished a good meal when the lights went out and the PA system announced the event as “a tradition.” This is the 3rd cruise the Royal Princess has made so it seems a bit early for the ship to have traditions. Anyway, the waiters came in, forming a long line, each holding something high which had a small flickering flame on top of it. These were the baked Alaskas. They paraded throughout the dining room following a chorography that was primitive but effective. I got a look at one of the desserts, and it developed that the flame was a candle or sterno can embedded in the top of the dessert. No doubt that was safer, but it was also unclear on the concept. I put it right up there with the Captain’s reception, and the Art Auction with free champagne as a must skip on my next trip.

This was our first cruise with fixed seating. Each evening we came into the dining room at the same time – 8:15 pm – and sat at table #60 with the same two couples. Fortunately our table was quite congenial, perhaps even rowdy in an over 65 way. We ate there every night except “formal nights.” When everyone puts on their good clothes to no purpose and spills food on them. The first of those we spent having a great meal in the buffet, the second we slept through. I did bring a tie, but packed no trousers, just Levis. We managed to get everything into 1- 50-pound bag, and some carry-ons by planning to skip the formal events.

Each night the cabin steward puts two chocolates on the pillow. We don’t eat them, so I saved them up and bought them to dinner the last night as a treat for our tablemates. They liked them and did some very satisfactory bickering about the division of the spoils.

The next morning was the end of the cruise. We were group Green 2, which were people who were booked through Princess onto a flight to the USA around noon. Our bags had been packed, labeled, and set outside the cabin door the night before, so we had nothing to do but sit in the cabin and await the call. It came just before 8:30. We got off the ship and through the terminal. Princess had someone stationed at each turn so you couldn’t go wrong. Our bags were there, we were directed to the awaiting bus – and then everything went south.

Bus 5 filled, we went to Bus 6. The cargo compartment was open but no one was there to load the lugged. No biggie, I’m able to toss 50# bags around, and I did. We stowed one of the carry-ons in these too. After a while a Princess guy came on the bus and made an incoherent announcement about destinations, and we sat for a wile. The driver got on and said something about KLM. “US AIR” we called. The bus left for the airport. Let me tell you that Barcelona has a huge cemetery, virtually a city in the city, built on a mountainside. Nothing else of note to report about Barcelona from the windows of our bus. We got to the terminal and pulled up at Terminal A. A display listed all the airlines in that terminal. No US Air. The bus went to Terminal B and stopped. No US Air there, but we looked out the window and all of our bags were being unloaded. Mary Alice beat on the window to get them to stop but no luck. We got off the bus and our Princess representative didn’t have a clue what was going on. Where did the bags go? Where was US Air? “My colleague will come along and tell you.” She said. No such luck. Eventually a Princess led us to terminal A. There was no wheelchair for our disabled passenger, and it was a ways to walk. When we got there, no US air on the board. No Philadelphia. Things looked bad, the Princess looked confused and talked on her cell phone. One of us realized that the Spanish spell Philadelphia as “Filadephia:” and found our flight. Now, where was the luggage? The Princess said we had to walk back to terminal B and check in there. We said the flight was here in A. She spoke on the phone. Finally the Princess went back to B with two specially selected members of our party to retrieve the baggage. The rest of us joined the line at counter 21-24 to see about starting the ticketing routine. Minutes passed. The line was slow. Someone suggested that our party members might be back but not know where we were. I went to check. Check. I found them, They were back but didn’t know where we were..We had our bags. The line moved slowly. Things got better from there but it was 2.5 hours after we arrived at the airport before we got on the plane which then sat there for another 1/2 hour.

I like flying but I hate airports.

PS The US Airways plane was a 767 which not only did not have individual seat monitors, it had only 1 drop down monitor for the send half of the cabin. They were showing the Diana Ross story, it appeared. Headsets were $5 or E5 but not being able to see the screen made them appear to be a bad deal. What I could see was some dancing and singing on stage followed by some arguing back stage. I don’t know how it ended. Lunch was fine.