Yesterday morning, standing in my stocking feet with my shoes, jacket, raincoat, one quart plastic bag of liquids and gels, everything in the plastic bins, carry-on neatly lined up, all of us (both stuff and me) waiting to go thru the x-ray machine, well, I wondered who had actually won the war on terror and it didn't seem like it was us.
Flights are full, and the lines are long and you spend more time getting to the airport, waiting in lines, waiting for the flight, grabbing a bite to eat to tide you through the hours than you spend on the plane. Coming home from the airport on public transportation was no fun either.
Nothing to do with travel is much fun, and that goes for the act of filling up the gas tank, too.
I remember the first year of my marriage, getting off the plane in Denver, in my new black wool coat with a snazzy hat, gloves, high heels, etc. My mom said I "looked like Mrs. Astor." I guess she meant Brooke Astor and in those days I had no idea what a compliment that was.
On that trip, we got stuck by weather in St. Louis and were flown first class to Phoenix (cacti with Christmas lights) then on a champagne flight (Western Airlines) to Denver. Even when the weather was bad, life was good, elegant, and no one would have even believed the hassles that flying now brings.
I rode on MARTA in Atlanta. Good signage, etc., until it came time to buy the ticket, and would you believe they charge 50cents extra for a "paper" ticket. I had assembled the correct amount of quarters (I thought) beforehand, and got the nasty surprise. The trip up 4 flights of stairs from the airport (with bag) wasn't much fun, but I discovered the exercise class and weight lifting at the "Y" were serving me well.
Train was clean and announcements were excellent. Hard to know where to go at the end of the line, but I managed. Weird people on board just like in Boston. Have I ever told you my "T" stories?
So MARTA rocks. I ate a hot dog at Hartsfield which was really good and they served a not bad glass of Merlot, too. I try to treat myself nicely when I travel. Didn't eat the chips. Didn't eat the cookie. Ate low-carbs last night, and high fiber this morning, so one hot dog isn't going to faze ye olde bod. Ole bod. Merde.
I read the most wonderful book while I was travelling, a new novel by David Levien, City of the Sun. Should have been published last month. I had an ARC. (Advanced Reader Copy). What a good writer! Hope he gets nominated for an Edgar. https://www.randomhouse.com/author/results.pperl?authorid=78108
Off to the wars, the suburban ones,