IF VIRGIN AMERICA’S INAUGURAL flight from Los Angeles to Seattle back in April is any indication, the outside world still sees our town as a refuge for flannel-clad, goateed rockers. The airline kicked off the maiden voyage at LAX gate 67B with a DJ spinning Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” Then the airline’s tousle-haired CEO, David Cush, toasted the new link between “the two West Coast music capitals” and relinquished the stage to lady head bangers the Donnas, who blasted through a short set before Virgin’s special guests—bloggers, AP photographers, and Hollywood D-listers—filled a tricked out Airbus A320 for the two-and-half-hour flight to grunge city.

High over the Sierras, Rebecca Cardon from Bravo’s reality show Work Out basked in the cabin’s customized purple mood lighting. Sunk in a leather seat and sampling Virgin’s new entertainment consoles—music videos, video games, seat-to-seat instant messaging—sat Lukas Hass, who costarred with Harrison Ford in Witness 23 years ago and grew up to look like one of those guys always smoking in the rain and staring at their shoes in front of Linda’s Tavern. Down the aisle, behind cart after cart of free champagne, came performances by Mischa Barton’s ex–boy toy and Whitestarr lead singer Cisco Adler, folkster Michael Tolcher, and MTV darlings the Bamboo Shoots.

Throughout the flight CEO Cush and assorted passengers waxed pop-cultural about Seattle’s rock (read: grunge) roots and rhapsodized about how Virgin’s techie streak is a perfect fit for Seattle. No one pointed out that Seattleites haven’t identified with grunge since the mid-’90s, or that, well, if you’re an airline and you want to make Seattle happy, buy from Boeing, not Airbus.

At Sea-Tac gate A6, the champagne-soaked travelers streamed off the plane and boarded a charter bus headed downtown. Cush sat at the back and cracked open his laptop. Later that night, he and the D-listers would pack the Showbox at the Market, where, between more musical performances, Cush would run his fingers through his hair and philosophize on rock music and stage presence—then get razzed by another attendee for sounding like a stoner. For now, he buried his head in his e-mail as the bus groaned past Boeing field.