I flew down and back from Seattle to the 1964 Berkeley Folk Festival. On the return flight, there were not that many passengers, maybe as many as a dozen on a Boeing 727. The stewardess (what they called "flight attendants" back in the Dark Ages) apparently had an oversupply of those little booze bottles and she kept plying me with Manhattans.

I wound up flying back to Seattle at about 39,000 feet.

Now the plane was at about 35,000 feet. . . .

Talk about getting "bombed" on an airliner!

They poured me off the plane.

Don Firth