Not Leaving on a Jet Plane
Today I am supposed to fly to Bangor, Maine for the last four days of the ABA convention. But right now I am stranded at the Columbus, Ohio airport watching the kindly gate attendants at Northwest Airlines deal with a long line of unhappy travelers. It's no one's fault, unless we can find out who is in charge of summer thunderstorm scheduling.
I was dismayed when I saw that my travel route today was going through Detroit. I have never flown through the Motor City without complications. Asi es la vida!
One thing that drives me insane about airport travel is that you are forced to listen to other people's cell phone conversations. Right now, here at Gate B36, there is a mullet-sporting woman in stretch pants talking loudly about tax shelters for her client. I think she's a lawyer or an accountant. Now maybe it's just my own personal bias, but if my accountant or attorney showed up for a meeting with a long, flowing mullet (with wings), I think I'd have to replace them.
A few aisles away there's a classic worn-out businessman in what's left of a three-piece suit, a tie that's too short, and sensible shoes. He's not going to make the sales conference in Eau Claire, and everyone else around him knows this because he's now said it three times in a row.
Think I'll pull out my phone and have a loud conversation of no importance with my imaginary friend. I'm just dying to talk about my collection of Chia pets, and that conversation simply cannot wait.
OK. Sorry for being so cranky. I should know better. After all, there's no whining in Blogland.