The Non-Greek Delta

I should clarify my closing statement from Monday's entry. (I sure seem to write a lot of clarifications...almost as common as my parenthetical addendums!) Though with the rampant popularity of the cinematic masterpiece Sydney White, I fear some may be confused with our 'Delta house' reference to be of a fraternal, or 'sororital' (to quote Amanda Bynes magnificant portrayal of the film's namesake, Sydney White) nature. Our 'Delta journey' had nothing to do with (1) revenging nerds (though MA may debate that one) (2) John Belushi, togas, coming on and shouting, or any such 'Flounder' sagas (too bad, that would have been a great, Greek, week) or (3) my cousin Keith and his historic tales of indian parties, rival frat maylees, and th never-bathing Smilin' Jim Burkoff...

all that, yes, all that, to say MA and I woke up on September 18--EARLY--and hopped in our Honda Civic to away to our dearest Atlanta, home and hub of Delta Airlines.

We were up and at em' about 3a. Now folks, that's a tough one for me. I bet its tough for anyone who regularly falls asleep on couches drifting in and out of HBO infected dreams until, say, 3a! Not to mention that sleeping on a night before such an excursion seemed comparably impossible to getting that 'good night's sleep' before Christmas. And I don't care how old you have let yourself get, that one's tough to do!

This vaca for my beautiful bride and me was like Christmas in September, to quote any number of retail giants. Plainly and simply, I was stoked. Stoked to the max, brah!

It was obviously still pitch-black-night in Baileyton, and in said Baileyton, pitch-black-night yields one of the most breathtaking of canvases for starlit nights in all ruraldom! In fact, that's one of the things I love most about our little hamlet. Cool, crisp, nights of brightly lit star-scapes and fresh, fresh air. They are a gift.

Back to our quest...

Mom (Ann) rose with us, as is her tendency. We squared away our pups, got them one last eat/poop and pee/stroll cycle--what a life, btw--and they were then set. I was confident that we could enjoy New York and arrive back with no problems of poop or pee, whatever. Oh, how naive we can be my friends! To foreshadow just a bit, think 'apocalyptic destruction'. And stinky to boot. Though I urge you to not let this prophetic vision sway the great joy that was, and is, and is to come, from this tres' chic metropolis. We were on our way! After we turned around, that is. I forgot something, I just can't remember what it was that I forgot. Maybe, probably, my wallet? And so we headed toward Guntersberg. All of this took place on a 'below e' gas tank. It is my way, though MA strongly rather it weren't. We made it. We made it to Guntersvegas, we made it to Anniston, we made it to Georgia, then Atlanta, and then, finally, to the Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. It was a great trip over, though it did take a little while. It took a few turns, and a few turn-arounds, though we made it. And, now hold on to your hats...we were made it there early.

We parked in a discount long term lot, which was not a problem, so long as one doesnt mind walking to the terminals and concourses and such from Alabama. We, being from Alabama, didn't.

I have been to this airport--one of the biggest airports in the world--many times. I have taken Mom as she set off to Fortress Europa, or China, or Egypt. I have dropped youth groups en route to Jamaica (when I also dropped their luggage trailer off the van, as I drove 'round 285!), and I have even flown out of there on my way to San Antonio, heading to Lackland Air Force base...but that's another story, for another time.

In any event, this airport is BIG folks! Bigger than I remembered, expected, or even hoped for. I figure, if your going to fly, fly big. BIg planes, big airports, you know, big TIME! Well, again, the drive to the Atlanta airport was very pleasant. If you have never driven east into the rising sun, you must do so at your first available opportunity. There are plenty of places to shop, browse, peruse, sip, chomp, sit, talk, and yes, wait. It's so cool, the airport is bigger and more modern than most cities in Alabama! Bigger than most cities in the south, actually. I loved it.

Just what is it about airports, anyway? Is it just me? There's this wonderfully grandiose sensation I get when in, even around, an airport. They make us feel small, in the grand schema, and as I have states previously, I think that's good. Perhaps it is that in the same way that the journey of 1000 miles begins with a single step, many good journeys to many far away exotic locales usually begins with some airport, somewhere. There are so many great films , and I do not mean Airplane, more like James Bond, even Vince, E, Turtle, Ari, and Johnny Drama! Premadonnas though they may be. Many great pieces of literature, art, even music. Por ejemplo:

Leavin' home, out on the road
I've been down before
Ridin' along in this big ol' jet plane
I've been thinkin' about my home
But my love light seems so far away
And I feel like it's all been done
Somebody's tryin' to make me stay
You know I've got to be movin' on

Goodbye to all my friends at home
Goodbye to people I've trusted
I've got to go out and make my way
I might get rich you know I might get busted
But my heart keeps calling me backwards
As I get on the 707
Ridin' high I got tears in my eyes
You know you got to go through hell
Before you get to heaven

Touchin' down in New England town
Feel the heat comin' down
I've got to keep on keepin' on
You know the big wheel keeps on spinnin' around
And I'm goin' with some hesitation
You know that I can surely see
That I don't want to get caught up in any of that
Funky shit goin' down in the city

Oh, Oh big ol' jet airliner
Don't carry me too far away
Oh, Oh big ol' jet airliner
Cause it's here that I've got to stay

that was Sir Steve Miller, Jet Airliner. fight song for our dear Craig "Dr Burns" Burns.

anyway, airports:
Folks departing, arriving, or simply loitering around these places. International intrigue, white hot romance, news, newness, sadness, seeing the world, off to war, or I think best of all, coming home. Next time you find yourself in an airport, give it some thought. And let em know. For real.

We checked in, using the self check machines, with plenty of help from attendees. We grabbed some coffee, some newspapers, to feel important and maybe read. We grabbed some coffee, yes, again, of course. We nabbed a muffin of scone or something, blueberry I'm sure. MA and I found a nice couple of big chairs. We had earned our rest and we needed to store up as much rest as we could. I fired up the ole' trusty MacBook and figured I'd take care of my last couple of pre-procrastinated business and personal details. And poop! I couldn't get a signal!!! I can get that, or not get that, at home! No big deal, I just didnt go through all the registration hoopla, and I made my last few phone calls. Our dear church pillar, Margaret Jean was doing well and very excited for us! Mom was fine, and very excited for us too. Of course she was, she seems to get the vicarious benefits of our exciting life. The exciting parts of our life, at least. And, no poop. From the doggies, that is. Well, so far, that is...

Part next, "In the Air, In the Air, Come on One More Time Girl it Ain't Fair!", coming soon:
(don't worry, despite the Aerosmithian title, it's perfectly tame, clean, and wonderfully entertaining. see you soon!)

hasta pronto,
Mateo M Smith, Esquire