My first thought on day-one was that I’d never be able to survive 4 days of this. The FA was already wearing on my nerves. Melvin is a performer. When you first meet him he’s the type you’d turn to your buddy and mutter whoa, we got a live one here. He’s so wired that he chatters non-stop and his passenger briefings would put any comic that you’ve heard from an Southwest ‘A’ type to shame. He strives to entertain. The best reference that I can give is that he is a sound-alike clone for Richard Simmons. After one of his long winded routines the captive audience in the back might erupt into a cheer and applause. He feeds on this and his carnival like showmanship zooms up another notch. Some of them must be annoyed thinking that he’s got to be on something. Forget trying to study the in-flight magazine, it is an act that his impossible to tune out. We touch down in Cedar Rapids (the city of 4 smells — which one depends on the wind direction) and Melvin is greeted with the one from North. Euuuuu! What’s that smelllll?! The cabin door opens and he realizes the full effect. “Euuuuu. It’s coming from OUTsiiiide. I thought somebody on the plane had pharted!” (I kid you not. That was a direct quote delivered for all to hear. Rosie O’Donnell couldn’t have been more loud and obnoxious. Remind me to speak to him about that…) I wasn’t offended (by the smell, that is). It was from a Tallow Works or an animal rendering plant. I think the paper mills of Georgia are far worse. Nevertheless, as the people disembark they get the farewell good byes shtick along with his opinion of the putrification and the advice that “if you’re not from here — look out!” I must play the straight man to all of this lest they think that the pilots are rocked out too. Two more days to go. I think I’ll enjoy the show!