Apparently I'm seeing things. I guess travelers weren't stranded all over the Northeast during the last week, left to fend for themselves like a ragged-out collection of Tom Hanks extras. I guess I didn't sit in vomit for three hours on my last flight. I guess the airlines must be treating all of us like kings and queens, hmmm? Because last week I asked for nominations for air-travel WHYLOs -- I offered up the opportunity to publicly reprimand the airline industry for its laughable levels of professionalism and customer service -- and the response was like the chicken and pasta dish I had on a recent flight ... so bland, it made me ill.

Gosh, people, I even came up with a catchy name for it, SKYLOs. Still, barely nothing. Perhaps there was no Internet access at LaGuardia. Well, at least the idea provided this week's WHYLO.

Big L.J. wrote in with this beaut:

"Hey a-hole! Airlines no longer serve peanuts to passengers! Nice story but we all know that you were lying."

Well, seeing as I have a bag of airline peanuts (there are actually a total of nine nuts in this thimble-sized bag) sitting right on my computer as I write this, I would like to say something over the pilot's mic to L.J.: Please make sure your tray table and seat back is in the upright and locked position, and Who Helped You Log On?

The only other SKYLOs of note were a wild, transatlantic tale of Lorazipam from Shane and this, from Marcello:

"On a flight many years back, we were getting ready to land in Buenos Aires. It was the middle of the night and as we are just about to hit the runway, the pilot takes the plane back up into the air to do a retry. Why you ask? Because it turns out that had we landed, we would have landed on a ton of airport equipment, trucks, and personnel. At first we thought we were being hijacked. Not to make the poor guy more nervous, but tell Joe Horn that he has a better chance of getting killed in a team bus accident then on a plane."

(I did bump into Horn after Saturday's game. He was dressed in full army fatigues and carrying a boom box out of the Saints' locker room. He asked if I had tipped the pilot after my flight to the Big Easy and I said no and explained about the vomit. He was disappointed but seemed to understand.)

The rest of the mail was from the Andre Reed column a few weeks ago.

From Eric:

"Flem, after reading your article on Andre Reed, I was not surprised that he wouldn't want to enter the HOF as a Buffalo Bill. I am a Buffalonian, and as a fan of Andre and the Bills, I saw a man that gave 110 percent on every play. He left it all on the field. But regardless of the ill feelings toward management, do not deprive the fans of the pleasure of seeing Andre Reed/Buffalo Bill in Canton. Screw Mr. Ralph "Scrooge" Wilson, he only cares about the bottom dollar. The amount that ends up in his pocket."

From Doug:

"Andre, I did not realize you volunteered your time in Buffalo. Last time I checked they paid you a good wage to play football. Lack of loyalty my ass, do you want some cheese with your whine? As for choosing another profession, yeah right. What is it you would do that would make you ungodly money for playing 20 games a year and having only to go to work for 6 months? The real world is tough, Andre, be glad you don't live in it. Shut up and retire Andre, you suck. I can't believe I am forced to read this crap (not you Flem just the quotes)."

From Courtney:

"The fact that these aging warriors, for whatever reason, will not leave the field gracefully, without enduring humiliation and pain, is a tribute to the quality of their nature that is both their greatest blessing and their Achilles' heel: their pride."

From Steve:

"You stated how you wish to remember him and I will choose as well. As a whiny, old man who hooked up with one of the most underachieving teams in NFL history and failed. After all these years of tolerating the Andres of the sports world, it is time for one less."

David Fleming, a senior writer for The Magazine, shares his off-center perspective each week. E-mail flemfile@aol.com.