Corporate jets, ham & cheese and a dead swallow

Corporate jets, ham & cheese and a dead swallow

I’m back with my coffee flavored water at my side, one more piece of clothing on (dressing today will be a progressive thing). In the interval I have examined my fabulous hair do, wrecked by last night’s rain and the slightly smaller triple bags under my eyes. Consumed allergy meds and checked the time. Yes I think I can manage the 1:30 session which is here at the hotel. Fingers crossed.

Who’d a thought that flying direct from a big city like Vancouver to a provincial capital like Regina would involve a small plane? Not me that is for sure. Smallest plane I’ve ever been on. Plane from Vancouver to Kelowna was twice the size. Not a prop plane, but as the flight attendant described it, an extended corporate jet. Is true. The same model jet Bombardier sells as a corporate jet, they extended slightly in length and that was the CRAModel? Jet I was on. - 26 seats. Cabin height at centre only 6’2”. It was however, fast. And since no-one was beside me, comfortable.

My big city girlness though always gets a big shock at small airports. When YVR is your home airport I think it can be understood that Regina International is a shock. I thought Kelowna was small. Nope. The Shuttle Driver and husband of one of the Yorkton Film Fest’s principal organizer was on hand and as warm and friendly as all the great clichés about prairie hospitality.

Now see, we have stumbled up against one of my personal blog rules, which is not to name individuals by their names unless they are already public figures to some degree. Which for the purposes of the Yorkton Short Film Festival experience on my blog might mean that some of the great people whom I’ve met will not be properly credited so to speak and so my blog posting won’t serve to enhance their names or reputations. Which is not that great in that it would be nice to help some of them in some small way. On the other hand I feel pretty strongly that they deserve a certain amount of privacy and my practice of nicknaming folks means they, and those that were there understand who they are, but the wider world and far reaches of my network don’t. It also gives me the freedom to say what I need to when I need to. Thus the decision is taken. I will continue to allude to individuals by nicknames and descriptors.

Okay, now with that out of the way. I will say that the grilled cheese sandwich at the airport reminded me of the weird importance of fresh bread to Saskatchewanians. Not that they have some kind of crazier artesian varieties or special secret recipe, but bread is always present big and bold and it is always fresh. As a kid I noticed that when my grandparents came to visit that suddenly at every meal fresh bread and butter appeared on the table for every meal. The presence of my grandpa, a wheat farmer, made it de rigueur, regardless of what else was on the table.

Running out of time. Will share Canadian Short Screenplay Competition (CSSC) pre-awards jitters later.