There’s No Talking in Airports


It’s 9:34am CDT in the O’Hare International Airport. And no one is smiling. I know why airports will never be the same, everyone knows why, but it still makes me sad.

Maybe it’s because I was almost always going on vacation, maybe it’s because we always had a cocktail, but it used to be so much fun to fly. No, it’s not the missing booze. There’s just no sense of celebration.

No one can meet you at the gate, no one can see you off. It’s all business, show your boarding pass, shoes off, pockets empty, stand this way, empty your bottles. It’s just the way it is.

I’m afraid to joke with anyone for fear they’ll think I’m covering up something. And that’s hard for me. I think funny and if it doesn’t come out it just bottles up inside and comes out in a loud burp. It has to. If contained it’s dangerous to my system. So I don’t even intend to burp but it has to happen so that people are forced to laugh and my soul and psyche is appeased.

So I promise the goofy look on my face is not acting, I’m not that good. It’s just that it has to escape. For all our good. Otherwise it might be a very loud burp and  it might come out on the plane. And I don’t want to be stared at for the four hour flight to LA.

Maybe I should go outside first, they look like they’re having more fun managing the planes and they’re working. I don’t think anyone waiting for my flight is working, they’re all dressed worse than me and that’s saying something.

What If We Were All Superheroes


Sitting on a plane for four hours, in a relatively small seat (and I’m only 5’7″ and 150 lbs, I can’t imagine being six foot and chunky) I drift  to two thoughts: I really want to make more money so I can always fly first class, or, I wish I could fly myself.

But what if we all flew ourselves, super-hero style? Is it possible that we could all possibly navigate air travel without hourly fatalities? I’m not able to walk the six blocks from my house to the train without having to swerve wide to avoid a couple who obviously paid extra for their all-encompassing use of the sidewalk. So what would happen in the air?

Now one might argue that given the ability to fly, the other powers would exist and our super-human strength would render the bumps and bruises meaningless. But if we are all men and women “of steel” then um, ow. I’ve heard metal hit metal and it doesn’t sound like fun.

You may argue further that we would also develop a tremendous power of perception and awareness of our fellow human beings, but I would snap back with “you’re rubber and I’m glue”…no wait…I’d say that we would still be human and therefore selfishness would trump and we’d be smacking into each other left and right, dropping like flies and making more potholes.

So I’ll plug the earphones in and open my book. The movie is another one based on a Nicholas Spark’s novel and I’ve already seem The Notebook.