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Tuesday

August 15, 2000

"A cynic is not merely one who reads bitter lessons from the past, he is one who is prematurely disappointed in the future."

Syndney J. Harris, On the Contrary

 

 

whatever

 


Meta: I may be a little erratic in updating for the next few weeks.

 

 

 

 

not in plan (or plane)

I am up astonishingly early. It's 4AM in Colorado. Dad and I head to the airport about 5 and get there before 6. There's a long line at curbside check-in. I think about going inside but I wait. I have plenty of time. I go through security and ride the shuttle to the right terminal and find the gate. The plane is delayed, they say, from 6:50 to 7. Not so bad, right? I get a large coffee and drink it. Then the fun starts.

There is a battery problem. We should all queue up for changes in our plans. When I get to the front of the queue...which takes a while, there is an admission that this plane may not go, not for hours anyway. So they book me on the 10:10. Oh, this isn't so bad.

And it really isn't. Except I foolishly don't eat anything except pretzels. I'm in my last month of an Admiral's Club membership. So I take advantage and hook up my laptop and work and send some e-mail. And drink free coffee and eat free pretzels. Maybe this is why I've decided not to reup this club. They don't even have a little pitiful fruit and cheese at this club. Maybe if I travelled more one could amortize it. But then I would have to travel more. And since I don't get that much vacation, on business. No, not worth it.

It's a little close in Dallas. Too close to get fast food. I had a bag of salty snacks on the plane. And some water. On the Austin plane a swig of coke and another bag of the snacks. Um...I don't think much about my bag. But, when I get to Austin, it isn't there. There's another plane coming from Dallas. I wait. Nope. The book I've been reading? The Lost Suitcase by Nicholas Delbanco.

Catch a cab home. On 45th we pass this amazing art car with beads hanging off it and stuff. Welcome, home. No covenants either in Hyde Park. Just a pushy church building parking garages.

Over a nice meal at Four Seasons with Forrest and SuRu I try to forget my lost bag and flying and bags of salty snacks. We have a nightcap in the bar.

It's funny. When you have a bag go temporarily missing (mine have always eventually shown up), you start thinking about what's in it. I was really stupid about what I checked in this case. Uh-oh. Is this the time it's never found again? One service rep talks about Detroit and how I "didn't take the plane I was supposed to be on."

Later, I make a list of what's in the bag. There are some cords and a battery charger for my camera. [Replaceable, it's only money but the cords are probably a pain to find and I can't download pix until I get one.] Some photos of Jack and the APS film canister. (Oops. OK, here's a good rule: exposed or developed film in the hand luggage.) My anorak. An expensive one. Replaceable but I really like that one and will not enjoy shopping for a new one. Socks. No problem. Go to the store, get more socks. I know where to get the kind I like.

Custom made shirt and pants. (The Airlines won't understand the value and it takes weeks to replace.) Two pairs of jeans. (No problem. Mervyn's back-to-school sale and they are replaced. And I have lots more.) A bunch of dirty underwear. (Ditto on Mervyn's. Heck the new stuff will be clean. And new, I think.) Two polo shirts. (No problem. Got plenty.) My Banana Republic sailing chart shirt. (Oops. Of course, I'm about to wear the thing out. The cotton is thin from so much washing and ironing. Man, I love that shirt.) My newer fish shirt from REI. Not as attached to that one yet, but it is cool.

A Levi's shirt I bought in New York when the weather turned hot. (No big deal. Not attached to that one either.)

A pair of California Crazee Shorts. (Get on the Internet and order some new ones for $16.) My souvenir Bellingham Winery T-Shirt from South Africa. (Go back and get one, I say.)

My favorite Cole Hahns. (The deal is...they don't make that style anymore. Otherwise, it would just be money.)

Then of course, there is the bag itself and the little combo locks and the Eagle Creek packing containers I've recently grown fond of using.

Hey...and my new French tapes and my Venice postcard folio and my bathing suit. (Who likes to buy a new bathing suit? But I always take it along.)

At home, the bag haunts me a little, but I'm philosophical.

 

 

 

 

 


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