Flight Line
Flying certainly got more interesting last weekend. Especially since I fly through the Minneapolis airport, I was obsessively aware of other guys’ feet in the restroom due to the recent elucidation of an intricate set of politico-sexual signals of which I was heretofore blissfully ignorant. Actually, I’m only half-informed. I know that, if a guy in the next stall moves his foot toward me, taps it and makes a hand-signal under the divider, it means he’s receptive to talk of promoting property rights and the Federal Marriage Amendment; but what if I’m in the mood to talk about troop withdrawals and a national health care program? How do I discern when broaching these topics would be acceptable?
It’s all moot anyway - I always use the women’s rest room when I’m in MSP. OK, not just there.
When I’m homeward-bound, and at the gate for my Seattle flights, I’m amazed that, for as often as I fly, I almost never see anyone I know. Last Monday was an exception. At some point, the gate agent called my name, and that alerted a sometime commenter hereabouts, Mr. Miss Piggy Lunchbox, of my presence. We first met him at a Drinking Liberally gathering. He’s a musical encyclopedia, and when he comments it’s usually to gently correct me after I’ve made some fatuous and ill-informed musical observation. We only had time for a brief conversation before boarding.
OK, the whole purpose of this post, at one week’s remove, is to present these photographs of Seattle as we approached SeaTac. The last of the evening light was having some really cool effects, even through the opacity of an airliner window (click to enlarge):
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The first three are of the Seattle skyline as we approached. The fourth is looking east to along the 520 bridge, past Bill Gates’ house and Bellevue to the Cascades in the far distance.
Those are amazing photos, the sort of images that tend to drag me from the dull worthlessness of the Dallas skyline into a fantasyland. But I know that you must be PhotoShopping those images; there’s no place on earth that looks like that. Is there?
No special effects, John, but photos I take out of an airplane window all have a cataract-like opacity, and all I do to them is jam the contrast to restore some sharpness.
Who knew there was such a rich and weird life happening in restrooms across the land? Certainly not I. Well, that’s not exactly true, I once walked into the bathroom in Port Authority in New York, and found people were literally living in there. I felt like I was in their home, not a public restroom. I changed my mind about my need to be there and exited very quickly. Many years later, and only just last month, I walked into a restroom at the Bainbridge ferry station. What a surprise to find a woman in there who had just washed her hair and was drying it under the hand-dryer. Still, nothing like having someone tap the stall looking for an intimate encounter.
Well harrumph. I notice there are no jaw-droppingly lovely aerial shots of Perrysburg/Toledo environs… C’mon, it’s not as if NW Ohio isn’t every bit as fetching as the PNW. Right? And as for Mpls airport, you should have read the signs more carefully: Different concourses offer different topics. Troop withdrawals/health care can be found in Concourse A. The good senator must have been in Concourse B. (Or maybe C. I can never keep it straight…)
You get windows in first class?!
Hopefully my comments remain gentle and become more guidance and education than correction.
Funny, you didn’t recognize my Seattle hippie hair and so I think I actually did introduce myself as “Miss Piggy Lunchbox”.
One of my favorite things is coming home to Seattle and landing at SeaTac–even if it is raining the views are still stunning.