I'll fly away...
I have decided that one of my favorite places to be in the whole world is an airport. To most people, an airport is just somewhere you have to be to get to your final destination. To me, its much more. There is just an ambiance that airports have that make them endlessly intriguing to me. Everyone has a story. You see an old couple shuffling their feet down the corridor looking utterly astonished at the enormity of this 20th century creation. You wonder where they've been, what they've seen and undoubtedly where they are going. You see a mother stand in slight embarrassment as her child throws a tantrum on the floor over who knows what. You immediately feel little pity for the mother since its apparent she has no parenting skills and then your thoughts turn to the passengers of the plane the mother and child are about to embark upon that have to deal with those screams for hours.
You know I love to travel, so it seems understandable why I like airports so much. Everyone is going somewhere. You can look at each person and know that within minutes or hours they are going to be whisked away to some exotic locale. More than anything, though, the anticipation of travel builds while you sit awaiting your plane. It's still incredible for me to think that as I sit in an airport in Cincinnati, I will walk down a tunnel, board a metal tube, then sit back and relax, knowing that at the next stop I will be in a different city, state, or even country. Modern avionics is truly a miracle.
What I like about airports also is that they aren't all the same. Different layouts, different decor, different people groups. In Chicago, there are so many Indians milling around O'Hare. I hear in Frankfurt its much more like landing in Istanbul rather than Germany. Each airport has its own flavor, which makes every airport you find yourself in a new adventure. I believe I first encountered a automatic flushing toilet in an airport. What a site that was! Little Patrick searching for a handle to pull, getting frustrated and walking away, only to hear it flushing behind him! You can clearly imagine him stopping dead in his tracks, slowly turning around to see water swirling away, his eyes getting big then rushing out to tell his parents something they would never believe! In all the commotion, though, little P forgot to wash his hands. Curse those toilets!
But there's just something about airports that make people so emotional. Am I right? You'll see more tears flow at an airport than you ever would a Saturday night showing of The Notebook at Regal. To see an American soldier walking the hallway after getting off a plane and seeing his children and wife run to him sobbing with outstretched arms is enough to make anyone cry. I always enjoy wading thru the throngs of people holding signs and bouquets of flowers awaiting loved ones.
(The only exception to all this is if you find yourself in Cleveland at 11:30 at night when all you want to do is be in Louisville where Poorna is going to pick you up.)
That said, no wonder I like Southland so much.
You know I love to travel, so it seems understandable why I like airports so much. Everyone is going somewhere. You can look at each person and know that within minutes or hours they are going to be whisked away to some exotic locale. More than anything, though, the anticipation of travel builds while you sit awaiting your plane. It's still incredible for me to think that as I sit in an airport in Cincinnati, I will walk down a tunnel, board a metal tube, then sit back and relax, knowing that at the next stop I will be in a different city, state, or even country. Modern avionics is truly a miracle.
What I like about airports also is that they aren't all the same. Different layouts, different decor, different people groups. In Chicago, there are so many Indians milling around O'Hare. I hear in Frankfurt its much more like landing in Istanbul rather than Germany. Each airport has its own flavor, which makes every airport you find yourself in a new adventure. I believe I first encountered a automatic flushing toilet in an airport. What a site that was! Little Patrick searching for a handle to pull, getting frustrated and walking away, only to hear it flushing behind him! You can clearly imagine him stopping dead in his tracks, slowly turning around to see water swirling away, his eyes getting big then rushing out to tell his parents something they would never believe! In all the commotion, though, little P forgot to wash his hands. Curse those toilets!
But there's just something about airports that make people so emotional. Am I right? You'll see more tears flow at an airport than you ever would a Saturday night showing of The Notebook at Regal. To see an American soldier walking the hallway after getting off a plane and seeing his children and wife run to him sobbing with outstretched arms is enough to make anyone cry. I always enjoy wading thru the throngs of people holding signs and bouquets of flowers awaiting loved ones.
(The only exception to all this is if you find yourself in Cleveland at 11:30 at night when all you want to do is be in Louisville where Poorna is going to pick you up.)
That said, no wonder I like Southland so much.