The Airport (transcribed)
In an airport. Aeropuerto. Or something. Heading back to SLC for t-giving. Or something. In this nation of fear, the airport is incredibly important. They're probably watching what I'm typing right now. Lucky for them, I'm not willing to pay the 6.95 USD to get the wireless internet access. It just isn't worth it. Social change can wait.For what an incredible city Chicago is, O'Hare is incredibly disappointing. Your run of the mill 21st century airport, with Homeland Security announcements running every 15 or so minutes. It's incredible, the "Meter of National Security" has been at Orange for months, and they still play the same recording as when it was first raised. Even in my strangled apathy, I was alert and attentive when the man with the deep voice asked for my attention and announced with deep purpose and energy that Orange was the new, by now tired, national color.
I'm very early. My flight doesn't leave for another three hours and here I am sitting in this radically familiar boarding 'lobby' waiting for the time to count down. I could have made it to Japanese class. Luckily I'm retaining the vocabulary.
They're playing Fox News. Great. Ultraconservative advocacy journalism really "gets me off."
I can easily tell who is from Salt Lake City. Who is returning. It's like this inherent radar built into my brain from my Utahn upbringing. There's nothing wrong with us, but there's definitely something different.
WHY AM I SO EARLY.
* * *
Several hours later. The 'waiting room' has become crowded with children. Small ones. There are also many other people who are not children but they're much more tolerable.
Oh! The navy is here. They are dressed perfectly, their black and white uniforms, black patent shoes with waxy laces; the men wear the traditional long collar and the women have ghastly berets with a black rim and white top, emblazoned with "USN" and the eagle.
Interesting to note-- they walk around in same-sex clusters. Even in each respective gate to each respective part of the country there are only men or only women. Why? Perhaps the government has rules about these sort of things. I also begin to wonder if the garish makeup the women sport is government mandated. You know, to increase their overall femininity and combat the rampant spread of lesbianism in US soldiers. One male cadet drowns in his formal gold-buttoned blazer. His crew cut betraying the pink in his ears.
There is a woman across from me crocheting. A scarf perhaps? The mother on my right reads some government-funded magazine. Time or something equally partisan. It's quiet. Is this normal for an airport terminal? I forget. Maybe it's the holidays. As my Japanese sensei would say, "SANKUSUGIBINGI." Incredible. People louder than me have arrived. Fantastic.
Meanwhile, Sean Pasinski's twin sits a few rows across from me, eating a Big Mac. The fluorescent lights flicker meanwhile, the Fox News is still on the television screen.
I wonder what Salt Lake will look like after Chicago. I wonder if I see it differently. Or if I won't see it differently at all. I don't know which I'm more afraid of.
This woman has a fantastic skirt. If I didn't know better I'd say I saw something like it some Yohji show sometime. Then again, I really don't know any better.
1.
there is the c h i e f stewardess
L O O K ! she boards.
so full graceful,
so grey
haired :
she is a b o m i n a b l e
a snowwoman.
2.
there is a n o t h e r sailor. with collar. with a penis. without a woman. without government mandated makeup.
King Navy, your Seaness.
3.
where have you gone? on a flight? on a plane? there is a loud leopard print in your place.
impostor! the o is out of place!
posted by Christolf @ 4:42:00 AM
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