Great Horny Toads, I’m Up Nawth

Yep.  I made it.  And yes, Laura, the title is for you.  Name that toon!

Honestly?  I actually like flying.  If you take the human-sardine experience away from it – which you can’t unless you have WAY more money than me, and that’s too bad – I enjoy it.  I feel that little acceleration as the plane pitches up and the g-forces move from pure acceleration to also pushing you down into the seat and today I realized just how similar that moment is to throttling out of a corner on a motorcycle.  And I wondered:  how many of the people who hate motorcycles are the same people who hate flying?  Hmm.

Anyway.  I had a whole bunch of things to Tweet and/or blog today that I didn’t, because apparently the goddamned Detroit airport, where I had a 2.5 hour layover, has one of those goddamned subscription hotspot services.  $9 a month or $7 a day?  Fuck that.

So instead I opened up a word processor window.  This is a sampling of what I had to say.

***

*sing*  Gotta lose your mind in Detroit…Rock City!

Cute single girl across the aisle, cute single girl in front of her, who’s beside me?  70yo Eastern European woman.

9.95 a month/7.95 a day for access to your WiFi?  FUCK YOU, DTW.

Mmmmm, airport Wendy’s.  *drool*

Gotta remember to buy Boy a magazine on the way home.  A character in his current favorite book reads “heavy metal magazines” so he wants one now.  Guitar World FTW!

Tall Sikh guy in a turban driving the baggage cart.  Bet HE gets a lot of funny looks.

Harley-Davidson store in the airport.  T-shirts, sunglasses, etc. of course, just one big bike on a rotating pedestal.  But still.

Airport police officer on a Segway.  In a bicycle helmet.  Sucks to be him…

Lots of concierge/security type folks wandering around with open eyes.  Illusion of safety at best.

Little girl in a stroller is holding Minnie Mouse’s head down onto the surface of the moving sidewalk as Mommy pushes her along.  I wonder how much money Minnie owed.

Thus far, Kerouac has been worth the wait.  And/or I’m kicking myself for not having read sooner.

Amazingly, no kids AT ALL on my first flight.  I don’t think that’s ever happened to me.  Also, if memory serves this is the first time I’ve flown since 2006.  [There was one baby on the second flight:  in the seat right behind mine.  He was wonderfully well-behaved.]

For Vix – used to get big packs of Oreos on Southwest.  I got two stinkin’ gingerbread cookies.  Bleagh.

Just now noticed kid about to board a plane in a UVA hat and carrying an orange sweatshirt.  Resisting the urge to holler “WAHOOWAH!” across the airport and possibly end up getting gang-tackled by rent-a-cops in royal blue shirts.

Know what I hate?  My gate is right in the middle of two restrooms, each about 100 yards away.  Thhbbbpppttttt.

This time of year, with the crops either harvested or in the process thereof, the water flow across the patchwork Midwest is so much plainer to see – sometimes parallel lines, sometimes fanning out, visible as the dark finger against the tan soil or the peppered treeline as the trees seek out the richer soil.

Approaching DTW airport, a flash of gold across the city blocks as the sun struck thousands of little puddles etc left by a rain sometime early this morning.

[after lunch]  My breath smells like mustard.  Yick.  Breath mint!!  There, now it smells like a mustard Christmas tree.

For Heather:  I passed over your house.  I waved.  You didn’t wave back.  Stuck up.

Sitting in my leather jacket – stiff, sitting up high around my shoulders, hitting neck [I wore my red, white, and black motorcycle jacket because it’s the only one that was appropriate to the temperatures I expected that looks remotely professional. I know that sounds odd, but really, unzipped with a collared shirt or a tie it looks pretty nice.]

Note to self:  I have a comp book in my bag, wtf am I doing typing typing typing?

***

I just got back from dinner; there’s a little pedestrian section in this funky little section of town where there was a gang of five or so street musicians playing together…two guitarists, two bongo players, and a guy that had an actual drum kit set up outside.  The weather was supposed to be chilly, and supposedly will be tomorrow, but right now it’s gorgeous, and I had a fantastic dinner with some colleagues old and new (none close but a few that I’ve always liked).

It’s quiet, and there are no hugs or tummies to tickle here like at home.  But right now it ain’t so bad.

I’m realizing that Dys’s borrowed laptop (AND its pink case, thankyouver’much) don’t have my feed reader and bookmarks installed, so I might miss out on a few of your posts etc over the next several days.  If I don’t catch up with you in the evenings here, I’ll catch up with ya next week.

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3 Responses

  1. The Husband bought himself a new netbook on Tuesday, right before he flew away to a client site for work. I guess mine wasn’t cool enough for him…

    This is a nice laptop. If I bought a netbook I’d have horked the laptop and stuck her with the netbook. 😀

    • He bought the netbook for writing purposes when he’s traveling. It fits in his work laptop bag nicely. And, as you can imagine, there is a bit of an issue with writing files on a work owned laptop and the potential to lose said files if there was to be a lay-off. Plus, he loves the portability and performance of my netbook (me, not so much. I want a bigger keyboard). And the price was right too!

      Now, if it was MY laptop, not only would it have a pink case (mine is baby blue- another reason he didn’t want to take my netbook I’m sure), I’d probably have put a pink skin on the laptop as well, just to mess with you!

      I was tempted to throw one or two of the Rossi stickers we bought in Indianapolis on here to butch it up a little bit, I’ll admit.

  2. Gotta burn my boots! They just touched Yankee soil!

    DING DING DING! 😀

    I had faith in ya.

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