I arrived back in LA yesterday after spending four days in the Berkshires of Massachussetts where I did manage to recover from my traumatic layover long enough to have a a really nice vacation. I arrived at noon and went straight to work like a proper martyr. However, I kept thinking, "something doesn't feel right." Deoderant? Check. Heaven by The Gap? Check. Bra? Check. It felt like everything was in place, but for some reason I just felt really, really... gross. And that's when I realized that I was wearing the un-holy stale film of Airplane Skin.

I had thought that the bath the night before would suffice me throughout following the day, but alas I had forgotten the realities of being thousands of feet above the ground for 6 hours in a tiny space occupied by about 150 bodies breathing the same stale recycled oxygen. The post-flight film that sets over me after flying feels unlike any other kind of dirtiness that I've ever experienced - as if my pores have imploded beneath a thin layer of wax. I can't quite explain it, but those of you who fly might agree that it's pretty nasty.

I think I felt fresher after spending a week backpacking with my father (against my will...as if I need to qualify) in the Sierras where we polluted mother nature's purity by using her as an outdoor latrine. I felt fresher after spending late nights in the cigar, stale beer-infested fraternity houses that I inhabited on weekends when I was 18 (embarrassing? Yes, more on that later...). For nothing, nothing feels grosser than airplane skin (have I made my point clear?...I know there are more important things to write about...but this was fun!).

Just for today, I can bathe after I fly.