So Long, James Brown
About fifteen years ago I was at San Francisco International Airport waiting for a delayed flight back to New York. I can't remember what the problem was, but the ground crew were unable to give any indication of when our plane might be arriving. There was one woman who kept trying to get information from the woman at the check-in counter, or to get put on a different flight in order to make a connection. The woman pleaded, "I need to make that connection to Paris. My husband is the road manager for James Brown, the Godfather of Soul. I need to get to Paris and meet the band. I have to get on the tour with the Godfather of Soul."
The airline employee, who was about as white and midwestern as they come, replied, "Madam, I realize you want to see your godfather, but there's really nothing we can do at this time."