We were three hours out of JFK when I started kicking myself for turning down an exhibitor's offer of an empty seat aboard their aircraft bound for the Paris Air Show. Not literally, of course -- I could hardly have managed it with my feet pinned under a pile of food and drink-splattered carryons and a fully reclined seatback three inches from my face. As a well-informed ``aviation journalist'' (a career subset regarded with curiosity by my J-school classmates), I of all people should have ...
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