Scranton to Charlotte, NC...and beyond!!

It was fun leaving for my conference from the new Scranton/Wilkes-Barre airport - it's a nice improvement on the old, grungy airport but still manages to be small and easy to navigate. I love an airport that thinks that three people ahead of you in the security line is a traffic jam! There was a nice little breakfast area where I got some cereal and orange juice and the oldest, little lady behind the register - this woman was God's older sister and she didn't seem too comfortable with technology. The family ahead of me was getting a couple magazines and some drinks and were paying cash - and this flustered the lady so much! She referred to notes from her pocketbook, looked through her glasses at the screen several times (as if by viewing the register screen through different angles, new information would emerge), and finally gave the receipt to the family saying very matter of factly, "Well, we just don't sell a lot of those (referring to magazines) and so I can't give you change." The family, who were desperate to get to their gate, just nicely agreed (they had over $8 coming to them by my tally) and headed out. In New York, there would have been 20 minutes of yelling and security would have been called. I love northeastern PA.

Bonus for me that I got to meet up with Bill Summerhill, one of my school's administrators, who was on the same flight to Charlotte (en route to a meeting in Nashville) and so I had someone to chat with before the flight boarded. Once on, I was seated next to a very tall, big man who was seated separately from his wife and son (they were headed to Orlando - shudder - and had gone through two canceled flights). I always feel so sorry for tall men (especially the huskier sort). I know I'm uncomfortable on a plane and this poor man barely fit into his seat, with his knees up against the tray table and his head about a foot over the headrest. There really should be some kind of rule that some 4 foot 2 inch person in the bulkhead seat has to switch!

We landed in Charlotte and disembarked on the tarmac (Note: Charlotte is a hot place in the summertime) and then flew through the airport, thinking I only had a hour before my connecting flight left. Nope. It was pushed back to 1:05 pm, so I have lots of time, which is a very good thing, considering that they have in the food court a CAROLINA BBQ stand!!! Yeah-huh!! Hello, pulled pork sandwich with BBQ sauce and steak fries with key lime pie for dessert. Heaven on earth, particularly after almost crying over the dining hall's version of this sandwich yesterday. Not even close.

My people watching during lunch makes for fascinating contemplations. First, exactly how many young girls feel that capri pajama pants with the waistband rolled down to show the tag (wha??) is a fashion statement for airport travel? Those with little dogs in carrying cases, flip-flopping their way through the airport deserve particular censure. My Aunt Martha (who is never wrong about these things) always said to dress nicely when you travel because you never know who you are going to meet. I have found that to be true - what would Bill Summerhill have thought of me as an employee if I was in sweatpants and flip-flops carrying Bugsy in a bag? I don't think I would have been the same person in his mind. But I digress, back to the bored, poorly dressed girls. So they're thwok-thwoking along (toe disaster waiting to happen) and I think, what if there is a plane crash? The kind in water? With high winds? Those pants are going to come right off! They are barely on now! They might look scornfully at my tailored khaki capris and pink blouse (Talbots, of course), but when the coast guard comes, I will have pants on, thank you. And you and your little dog will be very, very embarrassed. Come to think of it, the dog is probably already embarrassed.

I need to go to my gate and watch the people going to Bermuda (already sunburnt families and smooching honeymooners) get out of the seats so I can stake out a position for my flight. I finished my Smithsonian, so I think I'm going to work on my sock. Yes, you can bring knitting needles on a plane now, thank heavens!