Internet Librarian: In Trance as Mission

October 22nd, 2006

Getting up at 5 in the morning to drive across the Greater Kansas City Metro Area to the airport is about as much fun as it sounds. It was a pleasant surprise to find that Liz, erstwhile NEKLS techie, was on the same flight as me, so I now had a travel buddy. Travelling is always better with a travel buddy.The security routine at airports has definitely taken a turn for the bizarre. Jackets off and into a grey plastic tub, pockets emptied and into the tub, shoes off and into the tub, laptop out of its carrying case and into a different tub. And that’s not even mentioning the “no liquids and gels” (“unless purchased in the sterile zone”) rule. But we all grin and bear it, because otherwise the terrorists win, right?

I got a cup of coffee on the flight to Salt Lake City. It was very much like putting gasoline in a car, in that it gave me the energy I wanted, but smelled and tasted horrible. In fact, the smell and taste were very much like something you’d put in a car. It was the worst beverage that someone dared call coffee I’ve ever had, and that includes the time I drank the coffee at Burger King. Along with the coffee came some tiny cinnamon graham crackers in the shape of an airplane (just in case you’d forgotten how you were travelling). As dry as they were, though, they weren’t nearly dry enough to make me want to drink the coffee. And yet, I soldiered on like a good boy and drained the cup.

The landscape you see as you fly into Salt City Lake is jawdroppingly astounding. If you knew someone who’d made a miniature landscape like that in their basement, you’d think they were the Michelangelo of topography. The Salt Lake City airport isn’t nearly as impressive. The walkways and gates to and from the jets look like they were made from Erector sets. The airport has wifi, but you have to register and pay $10 to use it. I decided my $10 would be better spent on something that would get the taste of the airline’s “coffee” out of my mouth.

The airline overbooked the flight from Salt Lake City to Monterey. I truly don’t understand why airlines do this. It makes the passengers cranky, and the airline ends up offering fairly substantially priced vouchers to get someone to take a different flight. Despite the generous offer, no one on my flight was willing to take a later flight. The airline staff threatened to pick someone at random and make them take a later flight. The first person they picked quietly but sternly told them no way. They picked a different passenger, who also refused to be bumped. The airline staff began to look desperate. Finally, one passenger stepped forward and agreed to take a later flight. By that point, the staff were in no mood to have us board in a regimented,orderly fashion. Instead, they just let us all rush up, present our boarding passes, and troop off to our plane.

If the SLC airport seemed somewhat makeshift, the Monterey airport looks like the local high school theater department set up a mock airport. It’s positively adorable in its dinkiness. But as I stepped off the plane and walked across the tarmac in the sunshine and sea air, I thought to myself, “I don’t care if the airport is a tool shed and a Port-a-John, I’m just happy to be here.”

And so I am. Happy to be here.