Sorry this is a little mass produced. It's an
email responce to my friend who drove me from Queens to DC on wed, so
that I could catch the return leg of a round trip flight from Portland
to DC. My brother got married last Friday in DC so I flew there, then
took the bus to New York for kicks. The airline, Continental wouldn't
let me forfit the first leg of my return flight--from DC, even though
I changed planes in Newark; so I had to go all the way from NYC to DC,
catch a plane back to NYC to get to portland/home. This is how I
commemerated the first anniversary of the terrible terrorizing of
terrible terroristic terrors and the War there upon.
Mostly smooth trip back. I was in Newark until 6:10PM. You? The plane
almost crashed when we landed there because of the wind. That was pretty
terrorizing. I saw the wingtip just about hit concrete. Not really sure what
happens when the wing hits the runway but I wasn't wanting to find out.
It was a pretty small plane. The kind with three seats a row; duce, single
and isle about 80 total. As we were landing the plane got thrashed around
so much that, at a very low altitude, we went from being level with the
runway to being at a 30 degree angle and moving sideways, fast. We were
getting blown around so much that the pilot was having to gain altitude
to get back over the runway after getting blown off and over the grass.
It was the sketchiest landing I've ever been through. When we de-boarded,
I wanted to thank the pilot for getting us down safely but couldn't because
he was still in the cockpit with the door locked. Likely griping the controls
and wondering how to get the poop out of his pants. I read in the Times today
that someone got creamed by a piece of flying plywood in midtown. 60 MPH winds?!
I, for the first time in my life, am sure that I was on an unsafe flight,
could have crashed, whatever. National and Newark were empty, like,
Duluth-international-in-between-flights empty. No lines and nobody searched
me or anything. It was actually pretty cool and I'm glad I flew on 9/11/02.
It was one of those weird times when you're around a bunch of people that you
have nothing in common with, and everybody is pretty much thinking along the
same lines. There was a lot of sympathy and resignation. Everybody was being
really nice to each other. I was also suspecting that the among the passengers
anyway, that the superstitious paranoid wing-nut component was entirely
absent. When I got to PDX, while thinking I that was about to commit a felony,
the first and only contact I had with a stranger was with a normal, dickhead
looking cop. He asked me on the escalator if I'd just gotten off a plane.
I said "Yeah, I just flew in from New York, DC". Then he asked me, "What's
it likeout there today?", meaning, I think... airports in general? Airplanes?
And then, "How are you feeling?" No shit. I got back to P-town 15 min
early. My luggage stealing buddy was a little late, because she had to dress
up for the part? By the time she got there my name was being called on
the intercom and the baggage guys had my luggage.... so, no insurance money.
I ended up at MFP where patty got my card to work and a bunch of people brought
me drinks. Kind of nice to be home, but still wish I could have stayed longer.
I spent this afternoon drinking good, free, coffee and eating free food on
my front porch/cafe, with my shoes off. Talking to Suzy about the game "stick".
That's where you find a stick, throw it, then wait for something to happen.
We elaborated on the game and invented "red stick, blue stick." That's pretty
much the same as regular stick except you have two sticks, one red, one blue.
Life's still good. Wish you still lived here.
Lovins |