So here we go again. Some days you just got to get up in the morning go to work. Pretty normal stuff for a human being to do, it's just that my "work" is in Oklahoma and my work day just happens to be three weeks long this time. Airports don't suck, they don't deserve that much credit, they are merely annoying. I know the routine, it does not take a rocket scientist to figure it out.
Show up and
- hope they have your ticket right,
- hope your bags are not overweight,
- hope the line is not so long that you miss your flight,
- hope you do not end up behind someone that causes a stink or tries to bring "bad' things through security,
- hope the security line is not so long that you miss your flight,
- hope the hike to the gate is not so far that you miss your flight,
- hope your plane is running on time or at least close,
- hope they have not sold your seat to someone else,
- hope they do not take away your carry-on-bag because the overhead compartments are too full,
- hope you do not sit on the runway forever,
- hope the food, if any, is remotely edible,
- hope that you are not seated next to someone that endlessly farts, snores or has to go to he bathroom 10 times when you have an isle seat,
- hope that no one does anything stupid like die or yell at a flight attendant that causes the plane to be diverted and land at the wrong airport,
- hope the plane stays in the air while trying to fly,
- hope you don't leave anything on the plane,
- hope that your bags show up on the belt and finally,
- hope that everything you put in your bags is still in there.
So really, all and all it is pretty straight forward stuff and since most everything is beyond my control, there is no real reason to stress over it. So I just wander on through with the smile of mild annoyance.
So, here I am
rocking like a hurricane, or at the very least, riding in a cab towards the hotel in Oklahoma. An explorer, and adventurer, a gypsy navigating the uncharted territory of thrill and the stars align to deliver me to
the sheltering safety behind a door that a small plastic key card allows entry with its encrypted password stored on a magnetic stripe. But no journey can be accomplished without nourishment so off into the mysterious city I head
and amongst the plethora of opportunities
and two's and two's of blocks walked before I settle on a local cuisine called ribs, okra and slaw. And though my mind and eyes offer reluctance, my belly wins out in the short term
Only for belly to grumble later about the grease and though I feel shade less than exuberant, I bask in telling belly "I told you so!" Oh, for a fresh cucumber, tomato and feta salad with olive oil. Well, at least my problems are not outside of anything a few cold beers can't fix. So I am off to meet the clustering roadies at the hotel bar. I will see ya 'all tomorrow, when we .............
Oh, that's right, how about a rock show?
The feeling displaced,