Minneapolis St. Paul

It's snowing, and my breath frosted in the gate tunnel from the plane. Once again I had a row to myself on the flight, which is always pleasant.

I'm now putting down roots at a bar in the concourse; only $2 for a shot of Glenlivet to go with my tall Summit, and the best seat at the bar according to the personable bartender. Two hours to kill, eh?

I dislike forgetting things, so I have developed a habit of writing notes and lists. I made just such a list on the flight. Or, rather, a table; 8 rows and ten columns, corresponding to periods of my life and aspects of each. Sometimes the act of making a list brings to mind new items, or makes you consider anew what you should include or exclude. Oftentimes the process itself surprises you; likewise the results, regardless of the subject matter.

I like airports. This is probably because I like watching people, and the enforced time period gives one an opportunity to be present — to listen wholly to some music, or to write, or just to think. It also brings to mind vivid memories of other airports at other times: finding transport in Prague; buying food from bashful checkout girls and making plans on the phone in Minneapolis; waking someone up with a call before I flew from Heathrow; and the certainty of those goodbyes between check-in and airside, on the phone, and at kerbsides, beside open car doors. Almost all of these memories are necessarily mine and mine alone, which makes them rather special.

Safest form of transport it may be, but it makes you think.

Posted at 2005-11-29 17:34:24 by Richard • Link to Minneapolis St. Pa…
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