...like cheetahs, with guns!

In the Spring of 1863, General Robert E. Lee
and his Army of Northern Virginia
faced a Union Army more than twice their size
across the banks of the Rappahonnock River.

(I just checked my map program to get
the correct spelling, so no noisy letters
to the editor, please.)

In an attempt to flank Lee's position,
the Union Army divided itself into
two parts.

One part held the heights on the northern
side of the Rappahonnock, across from
the town of Fredericksburg, directly facing
Lee's position, south of the town, hoping to
pin him down.

A larger number of Union troops crossed the river
and positioned themselves to attack Lee's
left flank.

(There's a whole fiasco here about the misuse
of Union Calvary - but fuggetaboutit...)

Against all odds, Lee gambled by dividing his own meager forces
into two parts 
and determined to audaciously take the offensive.

Thus began a campaign that has been hailed as his greatest battle: 
Chancellorsville.

Risking all, Lee was successful
he not only turned the right flank of the
unsuspecting Army of the Potomac, 
but completely routed his foes 
and forced them from the soil of Virginia.

{ My Southern editor will like this analogy
to no end, I am sure - this despite the fact
he hails from Long Island, New York. - Jeff }

Robert E. Lee never flew Northwest Airlines.
You can look  it up.

If he had, he would have lost the battle.

Here is a photo taken at the Memphis Airport, explaining Northwest Airlines responsibilities to passengers when flights are either delayed or overbooked.

Knowing full well General Avner's proclivity
for detail and wishing to cause him as little
anxiety as possible 
on my part

I determined to get to LGA 2 hours before my departure 
to identify myself
obtain my e-ticket 
and wait patiently for the rest of the crew.

All this was to no avail.

Upon entering the designated departure terminal
I witnessed General Avner already standing
at the check in counter and 
busily explaining to the Northwest personnel

why his wife would be carrying a suitcase full of
handguns of various caliber's...

Next, I discovered only 4 troopers of 
The K Kompany would be making the
flight to Alexandria (International?) Airport
that evening.

Two more would join us the next morning
in Louisiana.

(They were both committed to perform
in New York that particular evening
due to a previous engagement
and couldn't make this flight)

Note: Actually we were all heading for
Bayou country

where at 3 in the morning
around the blackjack table

people described themselves
as "...fun loving, coon-assed Cajuns..."

I am not privy to what goes on within the mind
of great military leaders... nor anyone else for
that matter... and this is a good thing.

Logistics is a terrible thing for one and all...

Jon had confided to me via e mail he was
dangerously extending the capacities of his
available resources.

(He had to go out and purchase additional
weapons for this campaign.)

Given my own proclivity for saying strange
things when asked perfectly normal questions

had the responsibility for explaining 

why so many weapons were being transported
onboard a commercial domestic flight

been mine

I would have succeeded in having us all arrested
on the spot 

and the two actors 
showing up the next morning
would have been held for questioning...

Jon can be very tight about some things
with good reason.

Jon was merely escorting us 
and keeping up morale

(and keeping an eye on the guns
until the last possible moment)

for
he and another crew from the K Kompany
would be flying out of LGA the next day
and be performing at Casino Aztar in Indiana 
that evening...

His wife, Dee, would be doubling
as stage manager and actress...
with this crew, bound for the Bayou.

She was holding together quite well

(despite the fact she would throw up
from all the tension after the performance
on Friday night 

tastefully excusing herself from the
dinner table, first ...)

...for the moment she looked fine...

We embarked with the usual hitch
of getting out of the gate a bit late
but we four intrepid souls arrived
in Memphis for our connecting flight
in plenty of time

for us to discover they'd overbooked
the next leg of our journey.

While waiting for the ground crew

to replace the piece of cheese that was
held on a string 
in front of the mouse
who was positioned in front of the cat
who was positioned in front of the dog

all on a conveyor belt

which was what passed for the
"power train" that made the 

propellers

turn 

on our twin engine prop jet 
bound for Alexandria International (?)

a disembodied voice came over the
loudspeaker system suggesting
to any interested party 
holding a ticket to Alexandria on this evening's flight

that Northwest Airlines was prepared to pay you
$600 dollars 
put you up at a local hotel
and fly you out the next morning

if you'd be willing to give up
your seat.

No takers.

I thought about it, though.

It would've given Jon a heart attack
when he found out
and I was trying very hard to be on my 
best behavior...

but then again, I've never seen Graceland...?

After a bit of time and still no takers
a second announcement was heard.

This time the deal was:
$400 AND a round trip ticket
anywhere in the continental U.S.A.

I thought they'd lessened the pot
and so I said out loud in my finest
stage voice 
so everyone could overhear me:

"I'm holding out for twenty five hundred."

With that, I immediately gained the attention
and admiration of everyone in the waiting area.

One guy sitting directly in front of me
chimed in:

"CASH."

I quickly picked up on that, and continued:

"Yeah! CASH! Me and this guy! Both of us."

A good time (at the expense of Northwest)
was desired by all...

We finally boarded the aircraft and got settled in.

And then were asked to leave the aircraft
for mechanical reasons...

Don't ask.

I didn't.

Whatever it was, I wanted it fixed.

MARKSVILLE, HERE I COME!

When we landed we were met by a Courtesy Van.

We were driven from the airport  to the casino after the sun had set. A bright yellow moon and soft southern breezes followed us...

An Aside:

{I had cashed in a fifty dollar bill
prior to walking to the big banquet hall
where we would be performing...

at the Cashier's counter in the casino.

It appeared as if the Fifty was first torn in half
and then
taped together again. 

In the spirit of Chutzpah, I remarked
to the woman behind the cashier's desk:

"Someone got angry at General Grant
and seems to have torn him in half...?"

She gave me a very strange look.

And changed the fifty.}

Granted, having people from NYC 
showing up in the Bayou may have
seemed rather exotic, 
but
our behavior was well received.