DFW

I’m at DFW now, and it’s a whole new ballgame. It’s like a busy mall here with all types of people, all ages, all types of stores and restaurants. I am sitting at my gate. There is a drama queen in a wheelchair right behind me. She is yelling at her attendant. “I SHOULD BE MOVED OVER IN ORDER TO KEEP OUT OF THE WAY OF THE ONCOMING PASSENGERS.” He is quite young and a different color from her. She assumes much from this.

I am waiting at B9. It just emptied out and is slowly beginning to fill up again. People stroll through the open hallway with their rolling luggage. Almost everyone has something that rolls. I think about how proud I would be if rolling luggage were my invention. It has changed a lot about travel. People love it and they also seem oddly proud of it.

I spoke to an older Blythe Danner look-alike in the restroom wearing a pink cardigan sweater set a few moments ago. She said she was headed to Palm Springs. She is a native of Michigan, and when I told her that I’d just come from there a few days prior, she indicated that she hailed from a golf club community near the area I visited. I’m not sure why she felt compelled to say golf club community. I guess I hadn’t responded appropriately when she told me the name of the town. She asked me what I was doing in Michigan and where I was headed now. When I told her, she said “Hmmm. OK.” and left without saying anything else. Afterward, I thought that maybe I should have said, “Have fun in Palm Springs.” But then I thought I didn’t really want her to have fun or at the very least didn’t really care if she had fun or not.

It is humid here, much more humid than it was in Nashville. It is also warmer by some 15 degrees outside and at least ten degrees inside. There is a thing called the Skylink at DFW that is comparable to the monorail at Disneyworld. It connects all of the terminals. The older people appear to be a little scared of the Skylink. The hesitantly step on and off it and never seem quite sure of where they should get off.

I am seated in plain view of one of the security checkpoints at the airport. I like watching people take off and put on their shoes. It’s such a personal offense. It was only when I took off my shoes at BNA that I noticed how dirty they were on the inside, how worn. For some reason I suddenly wished I’d worn another pair, a more expensive pair. Right now there is a guy putting on a belt in front of me. He is looking around aimlessly trying to pretend he is not doing what he is doing. He is hiking up his pants and checking his watch. I feel for him; it’s incredibly demeaning. Boarding call. Talk to you soon.

Namaste