Today's coolness: I'm on my way to San Francisco, in Newark airport for a flight delay that is now just about as long as the flight itself (hey, mid-day thunderstorms will do that, no harm, no foul on this one). At this point I'm unclear as to whether I renewed my airport lounge membership, or what affinity card works where. So I tried, was given a polite "no", and then the guy in line next to me says "He can be my guest, he's a fellow hockey guy." All because I'm wearing my favorite "Miracle on Ice" t-shirt, attempting to channel a bit of the spirit of Lake Placid to our athletes in Beijing (wrong season, wrong sports, right idea).
Turns out my line-mate of the random rotation plays (more seriously than I do) in Chicago, is equally delayed here in Newark, and was just being nice. You want the antidote to air (or road) rage? Play more hockey.