The day of forlorn--I mean, no internet

(Written 12 15)

So, flight of the season numero uno is done and done—New York City (LGA) to Denver.. Woo. Before we lifted off, the pilot went on the loudspeaker and announced that it had warmed up since yesterday. It was only negative 1 degree in Colorado. Although by the time we land, it’ll probably cool down.

Let me tell you, he was dead on.

Here I sit, little old me, typing away on my little white laptop, awaiting the arrival of my uncle to come pick me up. He head to get his phone fixed; a good thing, considering how much our airport relies on the personal organizing capabilities of all its customers. Not being allowed to stick around for more than a few moments to load up into the car? How could this possibly be coordinated only a few years ago, before the reliance upon cell phones became a major matter? What did we do—park in the garage, walk up and wait at the top of the escalators, or at baggage claim… I remember the days when I traveled alone before I had a cell phone, and if there was a flight delay, or some small incident like a change in claim-place, everyone was screwed. Although I’m loud, apparently, so I didn’t get lost in the shuffle.

Anyway, point is that I’m glad he got his phone fixed.

Onto the next subject… (Don’t read if your name is Robyn)…

The inability to go to the bathroom on the airplane in a reasonable amount of time. I mean, come on people! Can’t you finish your business in the four hours we’ve got on the flight so we can take our turns before the seat belt sign goes on yet again? Or better yet, Mr. Pilot, with all those years of training can you keep the plane steady enough that the passengers can relax their bladders a wee bit?

Shoe-icide! A brilliant play on words reflecting cultural integrity and frustration with Western intrusion in Iraq. Maybe not brilliant, but I surely enjoyed spotting it at this headline on a newspaper a guy was reading while waiting for the plane to arrive. There are three dimensions to this shoe-ism:

1.     A shoe being thrown at a person is a symbolic attack against someone well-protected and vulnerable only in a media dimension; that shoe wouldn’t have hurt him, but it hurt his integrity, which was the real subject at attack.

2.     Iraqis climbed like monkeys onto the statue of Saddam Hussein and beat at it with their shoes. Not an effective maneuver for taking down a statue perhaps, but left an effective message nonetheless.

3.     In Arabic culture, it is EXTREMELY rude to show the bottoms of your shoes; it is as if you are saying someone is dirt, lower than your shoe. I should probably be more careful of how I sit….

Finally my uncle came to pick me up. I’m at home now, sitting at my computer because the internet doesn’t work and unfortunately, this computer doesn’t have enough memory to hold all the movies I would download if I could.

P.S. since when is internet a word that needs to be capitalized? Thanks for bringing it to my attention, Mr. Spellcheckman.