Today's Travels

I woke early after little sleep and drove to the airport. I had hoped that by taking an early morning flight I would avoid some of the crush of holiday travel - my hopes were dashed. The apart was awash with bleary eyed travelers.

Of late I have become a bit of a travel snob in that I have little patience for those who don't know how to travel. Those that slow down the line at security, that have luggage that will never be carry-on but try anyway, and those that think they will starve on a hour flight unless they have a picnic lunch. I tried to smile and stay calm, and I did. I was thinking that this commuter flight from my mid-sized city to Atlanta would be a smaller craft, one with a single seat on the left and two seats on the right, and about 25 rows deep. I was surprised that it was a larger jet, with a small first class section. The Fates were kind to me and I made the upgrade list on the full flight.

Soon after the cabin door closed, we were notified that it would another 45 minutes before we went "wheels up". This was problematic because I had a tight layover in Atlanta, and it seems that I never fly into the terminal where I will meet my connection. Weather was with us, though, and we had a decent tail wind and made it into Atlanta on time. I caught the tram and made my way to the correct terminal and joined my fellow flyers boarding the plane.

Denver's airport was bustling, and after a brief rest stop I made my way to collect my luggage and hit the cab stand. The first cab in line was "Freedom Cab", a mini-van painted white and lilac. Lovely. The driver was quiet and full of smiles, but no conversation. I listened to the mutterings of the dispatcher over the CB radio as we drove in from the airport to downtown. It was a cross between an episode of "taxi" and the class lecture from "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" as the dispatcher sought to pair callers with cabs.

This dispatcher had a somewhat thick accent, whether from an African nation or somewhere in the Middle East, I don't know. He sought drivers to pick up a blond lady at the corner of Colorado and some cross street. The one that struck me as comical was a fare waiting outside the mosque. "When you get there, ask for Mohammed." I almost laughed aloud.

After checking into the hotel, I headed out for a later afternoon walk. At one point as I was heading back to Champa the wind really kicked up, and my Leinenkugel's baseball cap went flying off my head and into traffic. I turned for a moment, and almost chased it, but then recalled the line from Miller's Crossing, "there's nothing more foolish than a man chasing his hat."

So I let it go. I am almost hoping that over the next two weeks that I am in town that I see a homeless person putting the cap to good use.