From the Vaults (10/30/98)

As promised (if a few days late), here is the first of some old writings from my original journal from a decade or so ago.

This was written the day I was flying out of Seattle to return to Huntsville, Alabama after an unsuccessful 7 month stay:

"(Singing) I'm sittin' in an airport station, got a ticket for my destination... (Sorry, couldn't help myself.)
Didn't get much sleep last night but then, I never do before a trip. Just lucky that way I guess. Got an hour to wait until my flight boards. I'm flying Southwest Airlines (motto" "Maybe you'll get there!!) Talk about the bottom of the food chain! I hope they have real pilots; I dread getting seated with the rest of the herd and seeing flight attendant in the pilot's seat due to cutbacks.
(This reminds me that I have not had a new will created. Moot point I guess.)

I've got my Walkman, tapes, a book, two magazines, extra batteries, Dramamine, and enough food to feed the flight.
Not that I'm going to.
Unless there's a cute flight attendant that's willing to trade sex for for Rice Krispie treats. (Fingers crossed.)
Overcast this morning. Pretty typical of late. Cold this morning too. Coldest yet; frost on the ground and rooftops. Somber.
I didn't know that that the airport terminal had CNN piped in on closed-circuit television. Progress. The guy next to me has his headphones on but they "leak" enough for me to mentally sing along with Arosmith's "Sweet Emotion." I hope they don't have a problem with my Walkman.

The opening scene from Macbeth is sitting across from me in the waiting area:
Act I, Scene I (An open place)
1st Woman: "When shall we three meet again?"
2nd Woman: "When the boarding does begin, when the waiting line is thin."
3rd Woman: "Does this sweater make me look fat?"

Sadly, that last line was a direct quote. (Sigh) With my karma, they'll be surrounding me on the plane.

Thirty minutes to go.

A couple of guys are already trying to jockey for position to be the first in line for my flight.
Amazing. The three women I alluded to a few minutes ago just paused for a collective breath. Scary.
Great, it's going to be a cattle call: take a number, fight for a seat. Could be panic. I hope I don't have to hurt anyone.
As I'm getting ready to leave, I'm seeing the true Seattle "Grunge look." Lots of pasty white males between 18-30 with long, nanky hair/beards, nappy clothes sporting coffee cups. Freaks.
The waiting area is starting to get filled to capacity. My stress is slowly starting to increase. I REALLY hope my carry on hang up bag will fit in the test-thingy so it'll be able to go on. It did get out here, but this is a different airline. (See previous page.)
With a little bit of luck (and a well-placed elbow) I ought to have a pretty low boarding number. I guess we'll see.
Better move now, the cattle are starting to trudge to the ticket-trough. More later.

10:50 and I was number three in line. looks good so far. Still a little concerned about the garment bag. I may have to do some creative cramming. Maybe it won't be a problem.
Finally starting to get hungry. About time too. I've got all sorts of food but no drinks. I'll wait until I get dizzy, then I can blame it on the pilot.
Older crowd for my flight. Fine with me, as long as no one bugs me. Still overcast. I suppose there would be some poetic justice if I didn't see sunshine until I get into the South.
Boy! Lots of "fashion emergencies" around here. (Yellow tie with grey pants?! PLEASE!) Oh well, like Pontius Pilate, I wash my hands of this place. I'm not going to look at it as though I lost; I'm going to look at it as though I walked away to fight again later.
Wish I could "catnap." No way. Too many unknowns and only one me. I'll stay paranoid, thanks.
Had a nice talk with Julie last night. After 32 years I finally realized that, despite her temper, she's a really good human being. I think we made a lot of progress in our new relationship as adults.

Fifty minutes until the herd will be allowed to scramble for their seats. Right now it doesn't look like overcrowding will be a problem. Hope not. Jesus, lots of kids. This scares me worse than terrorists. At least they have an agenda; babies take NO prisoners.
Need to remember that I'm on flight 1578 to Los Angeles.
From what I can tell, the weather is clear in the South. this suits me right down to the ground. So to speak.
More and more people. they look like the villagers in a post-apocalyptic movie.
I'm rambling. I'm sleepy. More later."


That was all from that day. I'll peruse the journal and see if there are any other tidbits that I think are worth posting.