the plane over the plains

the plane over the plains

I've been in the air just under an hour. There was a slight pocket of turbulence coming out of houston; the weather there was just turning to showers. It had started raining just as my mother and i were walking into the Hobby terminal.

If Houston were in the penant championships you would never know it at Hobby airport. Every t.v. was tuned to cnn (at least it wasn't FOX) and wolf blitzer's voice could be heard just under the din of the airport terminal. It isn't much different, you know, the buzz of an airport terminal and the dull hum of a plane in flight. you can hear every single conversation on the plane, but you can't make out even the closest one. There is a three year old maybe three aisles in front of me on the opposite side; he is periodically screeching, a normally unbearable sound even to those with children, is just smeared away with the rest of the sounds. it hardly resonates.

To the west the sun is setting behind a flat smudge of grey clouds. To the east, just a foggy haze. It is 6:50 p.m.

I imagine that right about now, carolina and adolfo iv are at krista's house chatting about the RenFest, or maybe about the prospects of carolina's future employment at the Regis School. Adolfo is running around like a madman, his hair matted to the sides of his head. On the television is either an episode of Survivor (A Ledman favorite) or maybe even Lost. I usually skip those nights over, well, that is after i had a piece of Kristas homemade pizza. I would love a piece of homemade pizza right now.

Having just barely gotten over a nasty flu-like virus, i am patently too aware of the people around me and what they are touching, how they are breathing, sneezing, wiping...

ugh...

speaking of ... nothing brings you back down to earth like standing in line with a bunch of strangers carrying your shoes in a tub. Imagine had that guy tried to light his underwear...

ewww ...

this is the biggest piece of shit hotel i have ever ever ever been in.