Fresh Off the Redeye

My horoscope today:
You're trying to take care of the small details of your life today and it's the best time to do so! ...your eye for the tiny stuff has never been clearer.
OK, I know I'm being self-indulgent with the horoscopes lately, but they're eery! On the road to the Guaymas bus station last night I noticed I hadn't brought the cell phone! We turned around and went home to get it, I caught a later bus. Sitting in the Tufesa station I realized I had a little pocket knife in my backpack. Oops! I left it in the ladies' room, hoping somebody can use it. I really wouldn't want it to turn up under the x-ray at the airport, and get mistaken for a terrorist.

Diddly little stuff, but crucial.

Here I sit at an excellent airport coffee bar with wifi in Tucson, reading the online New York Times and working out my strategy. Part of the ponderous weight of my bag is a eight-pound package of labels I need to fast-mail to the printer in Sonoma to stick on boxes of newly-printed Collector's Guides so FedEx can deliver them. I decided to catch a cab back to the post office about a mile from here and get the box off, lightening my load and my anxiety level. (I had planned to mail them tomorrow from OK.) Then I'll zip back here to the airport, check in and fly away.

Another coffee, I think.

I know I was being vindictive about American Airlines in yesterday's post, but when did it start being the passengers' problem if the plane was overbooked? When I say I hate flying, it's not flight that bothers me, it's all the entanglements and fumbles brought about by so-called security measures. The plane is never at the indicated gate, it's always been moved somewhere else, requiring a frantic last-minute scramble of a half-mile or more. Check your bag, it's $15 or more just for the first one, $25 for additional ones. Every few minutes the loudspeaker goes on about Orange Alert and how you're expected to keep a death grip on your luggage and report "suspicious behavior," however you define that.

Flying itself, I still enjoy. That little jump when the plane leaves the ground and we're airborne...there are few thrills to compare.

There are a couple of men wearing airport employee badges having coffee at the next table, comparing recipes for biscuits and gravy and swapping barbecue tips. Everybody's wearing coats and boots, and speaking English. I feel like a stranger in a strange land.