I am actually typing from somewhere above the western part of PA, central Ohio, or maybe eastern Indiana. I spent probably the shittiest three and a half hours wandering the Philly Airport trying to figure out what gate my continuously delayed flight was to leave from. Was it F17, F37, F27, or as it turns out F36 that my flight was to leave from. I don’t want to turn into a pain in the ass over a little delay, but winter time travel in the Northeast — particularly from Filthadelphia –is a real drag. I am honestly still not 100% sure my “carry on” that needed to be put under the plane will arrive with me. If it doesn’t, my time with the CIC will be spent in blue jeans and a lime green button up … oh well, that’s life.
The flight itself isn’t all that bad, smooth so far, but I am always worried about actually saying anything about a flight until it lands safely on the ground. I was going to use the typical language of, “when it hits the ground,” but that just freaks me out to type (too much time around my wife I guess). As I sit here in coach hell, I am reminded that we do live in an amazing World … here’s an example, I woke up this morning to the ground covered with a fantastic sheet of white … I actually hoped it would cancel my trip so I could spend a quiet Sunday with my girls watching football, making a fire, and chilling out. While I am sitting here somewhere above the US (see above) I am struck with just how beautiful the cloud covering is below me. It is like that blanket of white that would typically cover a field in central PA before anyone, or anything, touched it … pure white, rolling like a sea of snow as far as the eye could see. Really. Amazing. Stuff.
When you spend an hour sitting on the runway you start to notice strange things — here’s an example, which way do you flip the little latch that governs your tray table? Mine is pointing left while my seatmate’s is pointing to the right. Not sure what that means. I also noticed that, since I am a miserable flyer, that the steward gave me two packs of pretzels because I ordered wine — three of them to be exact — while my neighbor only got one (BTW, I think I am only one on the plane who ordered a drink). Strange. At this point, about the only thing I know is that I will miss dinner and spend a quiet evening in a hotel room in Indy … maybe I might try a podcast.
Speaking of podcasts, I loaded up my Nano with a bunch. I listened to several episodes of the Bitterest Pill and laughed out loud more than once. I even downloaded a couple Daily Source Codes (haven’t done that in a while) … My old friend Adam was busy defending his updates to the wikipedia.org entry on podcasting … too funny when you step back and think that the guy who really played a huge role in starting it all has to defend his view of the history. All in all it has me ready to jump back in with both feet. It also makes me wonder what would’ve happened if we’d stayed in the game with From the Basement and really worked that … either way, the sky is not falling and Indy is only another 45 minutes away. A new live version of “Daughters” by John Meyer that iTunes “made” me buy just played in my ears and I am missing my girls. Tomorrow I’ll hopefully have a smoother ride and I can get back to all the things that make my World so wonderful.