My Small Part in the World News
With the terror alert yesterday, everybody began leaving the conference early, so they could catch their planes. But I was moderating a session that didn't end until 3:00, so I didn't think I had much hope of catching my 5:30 flight. I told my taxi driver my situation, and he said, "Weren't you supposed to be there three hours early?" But he assured me he'd do his best to get me to JFK as soon as possible, and he was as good as his word, taking me on a convoluted and very speedy drive through the traffic-clogged freeways and backroads of Queens.
When I got to the airport (with my heart racing from many near miss taxi crashes), I saw the huge lines and black helicopters overhead, and I pretty much gave up hope. But the Delta check in took only a couple minutes. I asked the luggage person if I had any hope of making it through security in time, and she said, "Wha'ch you worried about, it's 4:12!" And she was correct; security only took about a half an hour. My flight boarded just a half an hour late, and I thought I was amazingly lucky.
But then we just sat at the gate for an hour. The pilot said that things were backed up because of all the international flights coming in after the terror alert. We finally pushed back, just in time for a late afternoon thunderstorm to stall over the departure runway.
Another hour later, and we were told that a British Airways 747 had slipped off the runway. At that point, as I stared out the window at the pattern of raindrops on the concrete, I began to understand how meditation could take you out of your mind to a new place. Being forced to sit with nothing to stare at but the rain (or Mission Impossible III on the plane's video screens), I felt like I was a long-distance biker, pushing a portion of my body/mind to its breaking point.
We got clearance to take off four and a half hours after boarding the plane. By this point, all my deep thought had me convinced that the plane was going to crash. But, as you can tell, we didn't. On the five and a half hour flight home, I'd often wake from a light sleep and be amazed that I was still on the plane. It began to feel like I'd never get off. I couldn't tell from the geography where in the world we were, until I finally made out Mono Lake below me.
And then, I knew I was home free. Today, I woke up with a splitting headache that only now is beginning to fade, so I guess I should head into work.
When I got to the airport (with my heart racing from many near miss taxi crashes), I saw the huge lines and black helicopters overhead, and I pretty much gave up hope. But the Delta check in took only a couple minutes. I asked the luggage person if I had any hope of making it through security in time, and she said, "Wha'ch you worried about, it's 4:12!" And she was correct; security only took about a half an hour. My flight boarded just a half an hour late, and I thought I was amazingly lucky.
But then we just sat at the gate for an hour. The pilot said that things were backed up because of all the international flights coming in after the terror alert. We finally pushed back, just in time for a late afternoon thunderstorm to stall over the departure runway.
Another hour later, and we were told that a British Airways 747 had slipped off the runway. At that point, as I stared out the window at the pattern of raindrops on the concrete, I began to understand how meditation could take you out of your mind to a new place. Being forced to sit with nothing to stare at but the rain (or Mission Impossible III on the plane's video screens), I felt like I was a long-distance biker, pushing a portion of my body/mind to its breaking point.
We got clearance to take off four and a half hours after boarding the plane. By this point, all my deep thought had me convinced that the plane was going to crash. But, as you can tell, we didn't. On the five and a half hour flight home, I'd often wake from a light sleep and be amazed that I was still on the plane. It began to feel like I'd never get off. I couldn't tell from the geography where in the world we were, until I finally made out Mono Lake below me.
And then, I knew I was home free. Today, I woke up with a splitting headache that only now is beginning to fade, so I guess I should head into work.
Comments
Post a Comment