A grey blanket
envelopes the airport,
the constant drizzle
enhances the atmosphere –
the dreariness exceeded
only by my mood.
2 October 2011
CLE
Monthly Archives: October 2011
Under a grey blanket
Filed under Poem
Aircraft movement
Still sat the plane
at the gate,
wheels chocked,
jet bridge attached,
going nowhere.
I gazed at the
screen in the seat in front of me,
where complimentary Direct TV service
would play,
entertaining me with visual delights.
But “due to aircraft movement”
by the chocked-wheels,
attached-to-the-jet-bridge
aircraft going nowhere
the service was not available.
And I wondered at the cause:
had a crew member set a wrong switch?
Did sensors somewhere think the plane was moving?
The more I wondered, the less, I wanted to know.
I fell asleep.
3 October 2011
CO 1575
Mismatched names
The printer whirred and spit out my boarding pass. My heart sank as I read the name. Mark. The name everyone knows me by, but not my first name. Not the name on my ID.
Trouble lies ahead, I thought. Visions of becoming far better friends with a TSA agent than I ever desired danced through my head. I paused and looked at the pass.
Finally realizing that no other options existed, I pulled my driver’s license from my wallet and handed it, along with the boarding pass, to the gate attendant. Who took a look, checked off the pass and took my bag. The folks at security screening said nothing either.
Four times on this trip – twice going and twice coming, the process repeated. Only once did someone notice the mismatch of the names. Only once did I have to show additional identification – and a credit card sufficed.
While I appreciated the lack of hassle, it made me wonder. I will take care to make sure it does not happen again (others purchased the ticket for me). But I still wonder.
See you along the Trail.
3 October 2011
CO 1575
Filed under Antiracism, Travel
Cold night in Wooster town
The damp cold seeps
into his bones,
makes muscles ache,
and sinews moan,
Stirred by the pain,
but half awake,
he reaches out
across the grate,
hunting warmth and
seeking comfort.
Finding no one,
he sighs deeply,
shivers once, twice,
then tightly curls
into a ball,
pulls closer the
tattered blanket,
and tries to find
sleep yet once more.
1 October 2011
Wooster, Ohio
Along the Graybeard Trail 