BNA

I’m sitting in the Nashville airport. It’s 8:15 a.m. I have 45 minutes to go until boarding. As usual, I couldn’t sleep last night. I have both an unconscious and conscious fear of missing a flight. I woke up five times last night finally giving up and rolling out of bed at 4.

Sitting in airports is interesting. Most people try to be inconspicuous, and if you look at them, they will look away as if startled. Looking around right now, about 45% are reading newspapers, magazines, books. There is one guy talking on his cell phone in his outside voice. It’s one of those tiny ear phones which makes him look a little effeminate and makes his head look huge. His significantly heavy significant other is sipping her coffee and rubbing his back as he shouts in the air careful to avoid any oncoming glances. They both just finished gigantic honey buns.

There is a man two rows away wearing a straw cowboy hat with leather trim who is traveling with a guitar. He looks like a cross between Woody Harrelson and Steve Ervin with a George Hamilton tan. His son, who appears to be about seven years old, is wearing a huge black sombrero with silver trim. The son is five seats away from him, bored and fidgety. The guitar is leaning on the dad's leg. He occasionally moves the guitar around, leaning it this way and that, making sure it is close within his grasp. Meanwhile, the son is doing a backbend over the edge of the last chair in the row with the neck strap from the sombrero bunched up and stuck completely in his mouth.

There aren’t many kids or young people headed to Dallas. Mostly they are my age and 20 years older. The 20 years older crowd travel in pairs – husband and wife teams. The 40 somethings appear to travel alone except for the cowboy and son. It’s funny the number of people who read business books when they travel. I wonder if it could possibly be for pleasure or if they’re scared of losing their jobs.

The significantly heavy significant other can’t seem to stop touching her loud talking man. As I sit here I wonder if I’ve ever felt that way about someone. Surely I have, yet I can’t remember.

The rain is easing up outside on the runway and the sun is beginning to peek out. The Nashville airport is a pretty nice airport. When I think about the Memphis airport, I feel that BNA is pristine. They are calling for boarding. Off to DFW.

Namaste