There's too many--everybody's got
their own thing going on.It's a waste of time
to not be open-mindedat a lot of these things.
I'm trying to be tolerant,but it's difficult.
The tolerance,it's tested, routinely.
I was on a flightgoing from Denver to Chicago,
and halfway through my flight--midair, 35,000 feet--
the guy sitting next to me
starts eating pancakesout of a bag.
Not, like, a Ziploc bagwith, like, a little seal
and, like, a,"Hey, I meant to do this" vibe.
Like a bag from the store.
Not a storethat sold pancakes.
See, I'm saying likea Foot Locker bag.
You get me?
They're just loose.
They're just loose in there.
They're like bingo balls--just loose.
And there's nothing wrongwith what he was doing,
But you gotta realize thatif you do some wackadoo [bleep],
like eat pancakes out ofa shoe store bag on an airplane,
you're forcing strangersaround you
into a world of questionsthey never anticipated
they would ever have to ask.
"How did you getto this point in your life?
Where are you going?"
How do you wind up--If you're on an airplane,
you're on therewith purpose.
You are fighting gravityto travel through the sky
to land on another partof the Earth's crust.
Nobody's, like,waking up casually
like Amelia Earhart, like,
"I think I'll taketo the skies today."
You have purpose.
You have reason to fight natureto go somewhere else.
How do you have that purposein your life,
but still do itwith hastily packed hobo snacks
in your midst?
[cheers and applause]
That's not howyou catch a plane.
You're not like,
"Is this onegoing southbound?
Usually,getting to an airport,
that's your number-one priorityin the day.
"I don't care what happens,I'm gonna get to that airport.
"You can cut--I'll lose a hand.
"I'll fix itwhen I get there.
Just get me to the airport."
This guy, it was numberfour or five on his list.
This guy was like, "I know I gota flight, but it is Tuesday,
"and you knowwhat happens on Tuesday.
"Silver-dollar flappies,that's what happens.