NaBloPoorMe
I’d spare us all this one, but a deal is a deal and a goal is a goal and if I offer my dad five (count ‘em, FIVE) American dollars, do you suppose he’d ferry the mutts down here for me, so we could commence with the entangled cuddlement of return?
Today began at the hour of the sparrow’s fart, and involved:
A shuttle ride through Denver dawn with a group of older execs from big pharma, who ambled through the do you know who-and-ifs and have you seen thus-and-suches, while I took sunrise snapshots on my phone through the chiaroscuro of grime on the windows.
By the time we were approaching the airport, talk had turned to family. One father bitched gently about kids today, with their outscale expectations, saying, “Back then, I had a Doberman and a dirtbike, and life was good.”
The cattle-prod whateverdom of modern flight, with the airport security lines and the moving walkways and your fellow passengers, all fetal with sleepiness. The flight was fine, no drama until the end when the snotbag flight attendant insisted on walking me through the iphone shut-down process, as if I were thick, and not merely resistant. And now, of course, my phone is fritzy, caught in a cycle where every button I push makes it take a picture of itself. If I can get it to reboot, I will have many shots of the homescreen (I am death on the iphones; must be all that personal magnetism.)
A three hour drive from the Kansas City airport, which was unremarkable except for the blinky-starey exhaustion I felt and all the cheek-slapping I did to keep myself awake and on the road. I did make a detour through an antique mall in St. Joe, overstuffed with the sort of vintage horrors that make me want to purge everything, become a minimalist, a stuff-anorexic. Give me a white room with a white bed, and a white table with three grey rocks arranged artfully on top.
An epic nap from which I could barely awaken; one of those overtaking numbers that make you feel weighted, medicated, dopily underwater. I’m still coming out of that, in fact, and I am sad to say it’s already dark o’clock, which makes me think I won’t stray much from this place tonight. Maybe as far as the bathtub, then back here for more lounging in my own bed. The best part of being away is coming home to what’s yours (even if that’s just three grey rocks, or two small dogs, or one well-slept bed).
Tags: airport shuttle, airports, antique mall, big pharma, denver, Dogs, flight attendant, iphone, kansas city, minimalism, napping, st. joseph, travel
November 14th, 2009 at 9:39 am
I had that torpid feeling a couple of days, too. It was partially the rain, probably partly a low-grade infection. Could also be the remnants of the hurricane dumping three feet of water in as many days.
I made a bunch of gorditas, some blond brownies and today it’s going to be samosas with chick-pea and chili filling.We’re eating our way through the storm.
TSR: Again, when am I invited for lunch???