Roadnotes: Denver 1

Two days ago at my writer's group there was surprise expressed, by several, that I, at age 31, had been to 15 or 20 funerals. I didn't think it was that many. So now I wonder how many is normal?

The subject came up, of course, when I told them of my upcoming trip. The one I'm on now. I'm going to a funeral in Denver. I'm not there, yet - I'm on a bus headed to SEATAC, wishing my suit and dress shoes didn't require me to take a full-sized carry-on. Much easier to get around with just a backpack.

I'm at the airport. A quick tour of food options made me think that vegetarians don't travel much. I had to walk what seemed like half the length of the airport just to find something that wasn't a veggie burger.

Now, I'm watching a woman eat, one table over. She stares at the cover of a fashion magazine and finishes her food. Then she flips through the magazine, quicky and efficiently taking out all the postcard size ads that would ineveitably fall out if she didn't do this.

I caught you, lady! See, we all do these little things but we usually don't consider that we are doing them for an audience. Enough, though. I'll leave her with her stack of postcard ads and quit writing. I'm not even there, yet....



No, there's one last thing. (I'm wordy today.) Is anyone else a regular Frontier flyer? If you're over, say, 5'10", you have to stoop down to see underneath the overhead compartments in order to see the row numbers for your seat assignment.

My first time on a Frontier plane freaked me out - I couldn't see any row numbers, yet everyone else seemed to know exactly where to go. It was Twilight Zone-esque. I almost turned around and counted the rows behind me. I did figure it out, somehow, without asking, and for a while afterward it annoyed me whenever I flew Frontier. Now it makes me laugh. Just a little. Deep down inside, where no one can see.



Okay. One last thing again. And this time I mean it. I'm too embarrassed to bring a book out of my bag to read. I'm on the plane and I have a copy of the DaVinci Code, but I feel like it'd be too cliche or just too stupid to show people that I, too, have stooped to that level. Incidentally, Dabi touched on this subject not long ago....

Of course, I haven't REALLY stooped that low - I have to read it for a class I'm taking next quarter. The class is called, "The DaVinci Code." Honest. I'm not keen on the book, but I am keen on the history that the book is based on, which is what the class is about. Baigent and Leigh have done some great work and I couldn't pass up the chance to study it in an academic setting. Thus, I must read the book - it's homework I've been given before the quarter has even started. Don't ask me why, but I do actually love this school.

Anyway, I have other, more dignifying, options: The Elements of Style and Ouisconsin, a book of poems by one of my professors. I'm shutting up now. Who knows - I may not have anything to say for the rest of the trip.