What do we do? We Fly!*

(*From 'Do I Hear A Waltz', Lyrics by Stehpen Sondheim, Music by Richard Rodgers)

Flying Business Class can be heady but not all aspects of it are necessarily glamorous. Waiting in the Business Class Lounge of Air Canada in Vancouver recently for our return flight to Sydney we were confronted with two options for a hot meal.

And here they are.

Click on both photos to enlarge for a full sense of the quality of the offerings.

Looking at the food I was immediately reminded of the typically brilliant Sondheim lyrics;

The shiny stuff is tomatoes,
The salad lies in a group,
The curly stuff is potatoes,
The stuff that moves is soup.
Anything that is white is sweet,
Anything that is brown is meat,
Anything that is gray -- don't eat.

If you have a spare 3 minutes and 26 seconds play the full tune in the following recording. It is dated but it is still fun.



Here are the lyrics in full. I love them!

WHAT DO WE DO?  WE FLY!

Lloyd tells me, "Never go by plane."
I tell Lloyd,"Flying is insane."
We agree -- we would rather die.
We see a brochure, and sign for a tour
And what do we do?  We fly!

It starts the minute you check in
Departure time is at noon,
A cup of tea and a schnecken,
And -- quick! -- it's leaving soon.
One o-clock and you're at the gate,
Two o-clock and the flight's delayed,
When you finally leave it's eight,
And what do we do?  We fly!

I hate planes, sitting three abreast.
I hate planes, never get a rest.
I hate planes (I hate...
Ev'ry single one.)
The crossing was rough --
Which wasn't enough,
The fun hadn't yet begun.

The seat was throwing my back out,
But there I was with a book,
When suddenly there's a black out,
And everywhere I look
Is a close-up of Doris Day,
Ninety minutes of Doris Day,
There was nothing to do but pray,
And how do we go?  We fly!

I hate planes, most of all the sound.
I hate planes, even on the ground.
Can't stand planes (I hate...
Even more than those....)
The kids in aisle
Surrounding you while
Their parents pretend to doze.

The kid I noticed the first was
The one who stood on my feet.
The kid I hated the worst was
The one who kicked my seat.
There was one in the left who bit,
There was one in the right who spit,
There was one in the back I hit.
But what did we do?  We flew!

I hate planes.  Never can adapt.
I hate planes.  Always feel I'm trapped.
Can't stand planes (I hate...
most of all, the chow.)
To know what is what
Is difficult, but
I think I've discovered how.

The shiny stuff is tomatoes,
The salad lies in a group,
The curly stuff is potatoes,
The stuff that moves is soup.
Anything that is white is sweet,
Anything that is brown is meat,
Anything that is gray -- don't eat.
But what do we do?  We fly!

You're zooming up like a comet
Your ears are starting to ring,
Your neighbors starting to vomit,
There's ice along the wing.
As you wait for your palms to dry
You can see your whole life flash by,
And they tell you it's fun to fly --

Your chance to survive is so remote,
You're far better off to cut your throat.
But who has the time to take a boat?
What do we do?  We fly!