Scenes From the Air (port)

It's been a long time, I know. But my excuse is as good as any; B. and I were back in Michigan for two weeks and I was not hooked into the internet. At least, not enough to write up a proper blog post. But I assure you that my mind churns away many minutes of the day as "stuff" occurs and I actually think of the sentences I'll be using to describe said events on the blog. Yes, I write my blog in my head even when I'm not at the computer. Is that the sign of a once and future writer or a creepy freak who needs a better hobby?

Anyway, while there are far more important and relevant topics to write about, I can't resist detailing our trip back to Texas yesterday as we navigated airports, airplanes and the people who flocked in both of them. I definitely was mentally writing the blog yesterday and even jotted down some notes while on the plane, so I wouldn't forget some of the more interesting moments.

The first image we saw after passing through security was a large, beefy man with a scowl, walking briskly through the airport, his roller bag stretched out behind him, a young son running alongside with his roller bag to keep up with dad, and...an even younger son, dressed identically to the first son, crying--no screaming--for his father to wait for him. It was a terrible sight. The father ignored his young son who, slowed by his agony and tears, not to mention his roller bag, couldn't catch up to his father and older brother. Granted, I didn't see what events led up to this sight--perhaps the kid was a major brat who had had a meltdown temper tantrum and the father was just doing the whole "buck up kid or you're being left behind!" thing--but a very large, very busy airport just wasn't the place to demonstrate tough love. Evidently, I wasn't the only one who thought this because two airport security officers were discussing the fact that the father wasn't slowing down for the kid and and I saw them take off after the family. I ALMOST followed them just to see how it all got resolved but thought the better of it; I needed to find my own gate, after all.

As I was trying to locate my gate, I stopped by one of the giant televisions set to CNN, which was about to deliver BREAKING NEWS...which just so happened to be that Tiger Woods' divorce was finalized. Breaking news? Give me a break.

As we approached our gate, a surreal vision came into focus. True to an anime movie, a large contingent of school-uniform-clad teenage Japanese girls--complete with the pleated skirt and knotted neckerchief in front--made their way around us. Even their hair, while not pink, was similar to the movies, as there were pageboys, ponytails and long bobs. The only thing missing was a vicious dragon or monster in need of slaying.

Once on the flight, B. and I sat down behind a man who seemed none too pleased to have a baby behind him. Just as my hackles were about to flare up, a woman walked down the aisle, looking for a place for her luggage. She asked the curmudgeon in front of me if she could move his small bag to the smaller overhead unit across the aisle, so that her larger bag could fit in the larger bin above his head.
"No," he replied.
Surprised, the woman kindly said, "No, I can't move your bag to this bin?"
The man exaggeratedly shook his head and said in patronizing tones, "No, I need to know where my bag is at all times. I don't need to get sick and go into a medical emergency and not have access to my medicine!" (which of course, would have been in the bin right across the aisle from his seat...)
The woman, still shocked by his rudeness, smiled politely and responded, "And that's why I asked you first before I moved it."
And that's why she came off looking like a reasonable airline passenger and he came off like an unreasonable old grump. An unreasonable old grump who flirts with flight attendants because after the above conversation, he started winking and getting oh-so-friendly with the airline attendant (who DID move his medicine bag across the aisle, by the way), and then he checked out her ass as she walked by. Gross.

The anime troupe arrived on our plane with band instruments in hand, giggling and piling into their seats at the rear of the plane. I surmised they were participating in an international band competition here in the States. Another flight attendant approached a very American, flip-flop-clad, low-riding jeans-wearing, Ipod-listening Asian girl in the middle of the plane and asked her "Aren't you with the group back there?" to which the girl smiled politely and shook her head no. Ouch, lady.

Perhaps the weirdest situation was finding that the family that sat in the seats next to and in front of us--mother and daughter next to us, father and son in front--addressed each other not by name but by title. The little girl, appropriately, called her mother, "Mother" while they worked together on different word puzzles. However, the mother addressed her daughter as "Sister", and when the brother turned around in his seat to bother the girl, the girl laughed and said, "Brother, I see you!" The woman at one point admonished the boy, saying "Turn around and leave her alone, Brother." It felt like one of those cult situations where names don't matter, so everyone is just "Brother" and "Sister." It was definitely creepy.

On our second flight, the pilot came onto the loudspeaker to give us the weather conditions in Texas. There was a collective gasp in the main cabin as he said the temperature was over 100 degrees. I had already spoken to Adam so it was no big surprise (just utter disappointment) to me. I was more surprised that folks travelling to Texas would be shocked by hot temperatures. That's like GASP! it's cold during a Michigan winter, or GASP! Joan Rivers had another facelift. I think if you decide to ocme to Texas, you kinda know what you're in for.