24 Hours of Flight

I love to fly.  I’d pick the window seat or maybe even the wing seats with the pop-out doors.  I mean, after all, those seats come with a noble duty and I’m noble and full of doodie.  I enjoy the experience enough, though, that I’ll sit pretty much wherever and feel super cool just for being in an airplane.

Last week, I was sent to the beautiful state of Oregon for my job, and it was awesome.  Oregon is full of scenery with mountains and hills lined with evergreens and snow-caps.  I flew in with a local resident who said that he could be from his home to a mountaintop within 2 hours.  Dude.  That’s fucking awesome.  Literally, I mean “awesome”.

There are no direct flights from Indianapolis to Portland, though, so I had to pick my stops.  With limited selections, I chose to break in Denver, CO and in Phoenix, AZ on the way home.  That’s one connection per trip, in case you didn’t make notes just now.  What is that you drew on your notepad?  Is that a picture of me being eaten by a cougar?  You’re a jerk.  Pay attention.

I had dreams of seeing Denver, but I’ve also never had a connecting flight before.  What I saw of Denver was blurred airport from one plane to another, because my arriving plane was already almost 20 minutes late.  When people are in a rush, the automatic walkways are awesome because they give you super-fast running ability.

Ok, here’s be first big complaint; why do people have to stand on the automatic walkways?!? I am always in a hurry (except for special time) (Ok, sometimes then too) and any time I can run faster, I want to.  Are people so very tired that they must stop to rest and make the ground do the walking?  That puts the bees in my sweater.

While I was in Oregon, I visited Nike’s campus which is amazing.  I had a chai tea at one of their bar-style cafe’s and ate a nice lunch at their nicest on-campus restaurant.  You won’t even believe this, but the salad was so fancy it had beef medallions and grilled peaches in it.  Yes, I got a salad.  I was at Nike.  I didn’t want to look like a fatty.  Honestly, I doubt the salad did all that much for my image…

After my visit it was back on the plane to Phoenix.  The air felt so warm and nice right off of the plane.  It was a dry heat, like the inside of an oven when you’re baking cookies.  (Don’t get in there to try this.)  Yes, people, I’m comparing Phoenix to fresh baked cookies. I had about 30 minutes to kill, so I bought stuff at the gift shop for Miss E and the Mrs and boarded my last leg home.

While this sounds like a hectic mess to most people, I would do it again tomorrow.  Flying made me feel important, which is always nice, and I definitely don’t take it for granted.  There was also some killer people watching to do, but with my phone off there was no one to share it with.  Ugh.  The missed opportunities.

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