All right stop, collaborate, and listen

I love flying in an airplane.

There is something about the science behind it and how people long ago discovered how to put an object in the air and get it to stay there and go to far off places.

I don't like when flying feels dangerous, though.

Yesterday as I sat on the plane and it started to taxi backward, the engine of the plane shut off.

It was reversing.

And the engine shut off.

Shut.

Completely.

Off.

And then all of a sudden, the plane intercom started playing music from the movie "Rio".

Over the loud speakers.

This went on for about 5 minutes and then the plane magically turned back on and we safely made it to Atlanta.

In ATL I was had the good fortune of seeing my sisters first husband.  Before Kid Sis #3 was married to Brother-From-Another-Mother-And-Father she had a brief marriage to Robert Van Winkle.  She even had a shirt with his image on it.  She was ahead of her time - she wore Tall Ts before they were unfortunately in fashion.

She would always make her sisters play his music for her and would rap and dance and just have so much fun with her husband Vanilla Ice.

I saw him as I walked through the airport.  I was tempted to go up to him and tell him to "Stop.  Collaborate and listen."  But, I know that the hates his old persona and has for years tried to get people to stop associating him with Vanilla Ice.

So, I just walked by him and acted like he was an ordinary guy in the airport.  Then I internally squealed and started texting everyone that I saw Robert.

As I walked onto the plane to Houston, the flight attendant came on the intercom and asked everyone to make way in the aisle for the mechanic to get off the plane.  That put some fear in me, but he was getting off, so I figured things were ok.

As I sat on the plane waiting for us to leave, another mechanic came on and walked to the back.  Then a second one came on.

I don't know why I seemed to be the only one disturbed by the sight of mechanics on a large machine that is supposed to transfer us to a different location, but I was the only one looking nervous.

Despite the mechanics and the loud, winy, dog-like noises that the plane made, I made it to Houston.

Now, I have to try and achieve my mission.