For some reason — probably to confuse terrorists — if you book Alaska Airlines flight 1856 from Los Angeles to San Francisco, you are automatically booked instead on American Airlines flight 1928 from Los Angeles to San Francisco. Alaska Airlines has no actual flight 1856. It's all a sham to get you on American.
Anyway, I fell for it and flew this morn to that city we're all sick of hearing Tony Bennett leave his heart in. A funny taxi driver asked me if I knew why driving to and from the airport was the safest gig a cabbie could have. Lapsing momentarily into Steve Rossi mode, I said, "No, why is driving to and from the airport the safest gig a cabbie could have?"
He said, "Because your fares never pull a gun on you. If they're coming from the airport, their luggage has already been screened. And if they're going to the airport armed, they've got bigger things in mind for that gun." He seemed to think this was very funny so I gave him a big guffaw in lieu of tipping.
Checked into a hotel a few blocks from where the gala WonderCon (which I keep plugging here) is being held, then linked up with my pal-partner Sergio Aragonés. Sergio promptly kidnapped me and drove us to Santa Rosa and the Charles M. Schulz Museum, a beautiful structure that chronicles the life and art of a man who created a beautiful comic strip. If you have the slightest interest in Good Ol' Charlie Brown, you owe it to yourself to make a pilgrimage to this place, and don't just stop there. Go across the street and see the public skating rink that "Sparky" Schulz had built, then go see the huge Peanuts gift shop, which is crammed full of stuffed Snoopy dolls and lovely Lucy figurines. (There's also a lot of historical material in the gift shop.) Nice to meet Jean Schulz in person after knowing her only on the phone and by reputation. She is really doing a terrific job of managing the legacy.
Then we drove all over Northern California, walked around Sonoma and ate lobsters, then bought gas and came back to the hotel. I'm sitting here in my room, writing. Sergio is eleven stories below me in his room, drawing cartoons. It was a nice vacation while it lasted.