on the road post one

The Detroit airport is one of my favorite...when you arrive on a puddle-jumper, you arrive on an outpost terminal. To get to the main terminal, you have to go under one of the runways. There, they have a psychadelic light show, thunder sounds, and Japanime-esque music...it's what I imagine Tokyo must be like, down to the high-speed train in the main terminal.

I ate at the airport. Note to the restaurant...Mexican food should have some taste other than spackle.

After some junk food (Crazy Bread!) to wash the no-taste of the Mexican food out of my mouth, I hit an airport bar...one of my favorite classes of places. I ordered a bloody mary (an airport tradition) and met my neighbors. The guy to my left was having a plate of french fries for desert "because I had sushi for dinner and needed some starch." As he was reaching for the ketchup, he told me that, as a liberal, he generally only uses Heinz. We then speculated on how much money an airport strip club would make and why we never see them. He also speculated that passengers should have a drink or two before going onboard...so they are properly lubricated to deal with terrorists if they encounter any. These are the types of conversations you can only have at airport bars.

Why is CNN so omnipresent in airports? At the Toledo airport bar, there were two televisions, one tuned to CNN and one tuned to something else. When I sat in front of it, I found out that it was on second day coverage of some minor golf tournament...that had been rain-delayed. Scintillating television, I can tell you. The bartender (a 40-something blonde, minorly leatherish, lived and tanned too hard and it showed in her skin...and every airport in the world has one just like her) sighed, let out an "Oh, man," and tuned the television to...CNN. Thank the heavens for alcohol.

The airport had the PA warning and announcements in several languages, but the English ones were the only ones done by a male...all Asian languages were announced by females. Either this means something, or the three hour layover was starting to take effect.

We boarded the plane and sat on the runway for an hour while waiting for thunderstorms to pass. This brings to mind: how can airplane seats be so unsuited for sitting? Their concaveness really hurt my back.

As the flight attendant passed beverages out to the window passengers beside me, I could feel some effervescence rain down on my arm...it was very surreal.

From a certain distance and altitude, the nighttime city lights of a metropolis look like crashing waves of molten lava.

I know this post is minorly random, but you'll just have to wait for closure...if I get any, you'll hear it here first.