2002-10-20 - 9:46 p.m.
Okay, so I went to Utah this weekend. I have updates, but there were problems. Technical problems.
I went to Utah this past weekend, leaving early Friday morning. It was a bit of a whirlwind trip, and I didn’t get much of a chance to visit with everyone I would have liked. The purpose of my visit was to see David Sedaris speak at Kingsbury Hall. My sister had scored the tickets for the sold out show and I would be going with her, along with the secretary for the office that she worked, and said secretary’s boyfriend. I arrived at the airport early, because I was flying cheap ass airlines, mainly because I had procrastinated too long on my ticket purchase to get a comparable fair on a descent airline (that being one where they had class distinctions and I was a member of their rewards program thus ensuring upgrades and lounge visits). While waiting to get through the security checkpoint, the man in front of me was becoming a bit of distraction. It seemed that he was attempting to bring along his corkscrew/wine knife combination. Apparently this “decorated war veteran” had been carrying such items on flights for the past thirty years. Apparently none of this flying has been in the past one. It was a rather wicked looking device, a three inch blade and very capable screw along with a matte black handle. Of course it was “just for opening wine, who would use it for anything else?” Despites assurances that it wasn’t personal, that it was FAA regulations, the security guard finally came by and ended the matter. And so the line moved on. Once I was in the terminal itself, I checked myself in and then went in search of coffee. I found the Starbucks, however the line stretched about a ¼ mile. By the time I had reached the end, I could no longer see the Starbucks, and had only the little green circle to fixate my gaze upon. I waited in line an hour. I don’t think I’ve ever waited that long for coffee in my life. But, I had nothing better to do. As if he was my own personal jester, or perhaps hell demon sent to torment me, who should show up but the wine fellow, his wife in tow. I was halfway through the line at this point, the dime sized Starbucks sign now a salad plate, and I was feeling better about things. The couple helpfully explained that the McDonalds down the way had a very short line, and the coffee was just fine. Smugly sipping they expected some sort of mass exodus towards the golden arches or something. They got no takers. We were vested in that line. We had tenure. Eventually they wandered off, intimidated by the blank stares, to enjoy their Folgers crystals. I doubt they noticed the difference. I’m sure that they ended up trapping some hapless student or single traveler and regale them with tales of brutality and property seizure at the hands of airport security. I sipped my Latté in peace, enjoying a kinetic sculpture until they called my flight. Once aboard I sat next to a rather prissy man whom I suspected was a homosexual merely because he was reading a Christopher Rice novel. Later, a character who could be played by Molly Shannon joined us. I pretended to read. The flight was uneventful, and landed on time. Landing in Salt Lake is really the only time that I am stricken with a sense of petty annoyance about the state that helped shape me to be the man I am today. The way people dress and talk doesn’t change much. A sea of highlighted hair and Doc Martins greeted me as I stepped into the terminal. My unease gradually lessons in the car ride north to Ogden. Once I get settled into the frigid monstrosity my parents live in, I’m able to deal. I spent the rest of the day trying to catch up with old friends and family members. Hung out with my parents, and generally slowed down to match the pace of life that the state is accustomed, but I am not. Tomorrow I’m looking forward to David Sedaris, plus getting the chance to see how the metropolitan area of Utah has changed since I was back.
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Zen and the stumbling rocks of fitness - 2007-07-19
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Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20
Zen and hiccups - 2007-06-18Guestbook Notes