Have a Coke and a Plane Crash

I've always been interested in the last meals convicts order before they're sent off to be put to death. They request everything from steak to Kentucky Fried Chicken to Cheetos to mint chocolate chip ice cream. I've always wondered what I'd want to eat if I knew I was going to kick the bucket. The other night, I had a dream that cleared things up for me.

The strange thing is, I didn't want anything to eat; instead, the last thing I wanted to put in my mouth was something to drink. And no, it wasn't alcoholic. Here's how it went down (no pun intended):

I was on a plane, traveling with the ninth grade English class I taught in 1997. I had just ordered a Diet Coke from the flight attendant when the plane suddenly went into a tailspin and began plummeting toward the earth. The flight attendant, who was on her way to the galley, came struggling back up the aisle which was now at about an 80 degree slant.

"The plane is about to crash," she said. "Do you still want that Diet Coke?"

"Yes," I replied. "I sure do." The attendant stalked off, peeved that her last task on earth would be to fetch someone a caffeinated beverage. Someone across the aisle from me leaned over and asked, "Are you sure you want a Diet Coke? That's really the last thing you want to drink right before you die?" I thought for a minute, then said, "Yes. Yes, it is!"

So there's one less thing I have to ponder these days. You may be wondering if I felt the least bit of panic while the plane was going down. Indeed, I did not. I was looking forward to it. It meant I would finally be able to get some peaceful, uninterrupted sleep.

Like Mother, Like Daughter

Don't tell Aaron, but I have a secret crush on Justin Timberlake. I'm not sure why. His boyish charm? His penchant for dapper three-piece suits? His Michael Jackson-esque moves? I don't know.

What I do know is that I can sing along with all his songs on the radio. I haven't gone so far as to buy one of his albums. I don't want to be horse-laughed out of our house.

Anyway, Maisy was screaming like crazy again the other day, and I decided to take her for a ride in the car. I revved up the engine and chose a road with lots of curves, which she likes. No deal; the hollering continued. I turned on classical music, which usually calms her. Nope. I switched the station to some cheerful Christmas music. Still didn't work. Finally, I tuned into B 93.7, where What Goes Around was playing. And from the back seat...silence.