A huge double-decker airplane with wings as wide as a football field has just passed its ocean-crossing test and it is now ready to enter the big kid's club. And by big kid's club, I mean fly 500 people across the Pacific and have the honor of being the biggest plane in the world. Can they get any bigger? The shadow of that plane could cover an entire town! Think of all the first-class leg room I could have with my gazillionaire friends, as we lounge on the upper deck with our appletinis. On second thought...maybe it's not so great to ride in huge fancy planes. I'd hate to be the poor guy who got stuck next to the elderly lady that died while on flight, and the stewardesses had to prop her up with a bunch of pillows during turbulence. One can't really tell the dead to stop hogging your armrest.
It's too bad we have so waste so much effort on planes because we can't use the world's natural transporter, blue whales. I can see the promo spots now: "Whales! The All-Natural Vehicle- Made of blubber!" as we hop on the barnacled backs of these lovelies. It would also be pretty great to meet your loved ones on the dock (or in the air, if they could fly, like in Fantasia 2000) as the whale surfaced- aunt Paula or uncle Tony could pop out of the baleen mouth, ready for a walk around Manhattan. In reality, whales cannot hold us elegantly in their mouths, nor could we endure the boredom of terribly slow swimming rates. And meanwhile, instead of floating through the sky effortlessly on my way to Paris, I'd probably get stuck a runway in Biloxi with a dead lady propped up on my shoulder, and the only thing on my tiny slum-class TV is continuous episodes of Everybody Loves Raymond (Except for Midnight). It's time to reach for the flight attendant button. Maybe they can make me an appletini.