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I’m soon to embark for NYC to attend a Memorial service for my beloved aunt. Only this time around, I’ll be flying out of the San Francisco Airport. (I relocated to Berkeley, California in September 2012 following a 30-year death sentence in Fresno)
Two years ago, a movie-threaded narrative plotted all possible outcomes of my journey East, with colorful scenarios rolled from a red carpet unwelcome mat.
So it’s a no-brainer that a nostalgic blog revisit is the best prep for my upcoming trip:
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It’s countdown time. I’ll leave Fresno from the “Dullest” airport tomorrow at the crack of dawn. No, it’s not Dulles in DC, but our very own, renamed “Fresno/Yosemite International Air Terminal.”
My daughter, Aviva rehashed the hilarious mix-up in her film compilations, “Did Somebody Say Fresno?!” Parts 1 through 6, when she lifted the best forgotten double entendres out of grade B movie obscurity. (Tom…
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