I'm sitting in the delightful little Delta Airlines club room here at the airport in Nashville, TN, having just escorted one of the kittens here via BWI. I transferred custody to her best friend and her friend's Dad---a family who moved away from our town on the Eastern Shore last Summer. Their moving was heartbreaking to the older of the two kittens, and getting the two kids back together has been a priority of mine ever since. With a flight home two hours from now, I seek the refuge of the day pass in the Delta lounge, and watch the goings on from South Africa with bemusement. I've come to equate the calm and sterility of airport lounges with prime blogging time, so forgive me if I prattle on.
Prior to popping into this womb-like room, I had an early (1015) lunch at a bar in the airport terminal. While I used to drink quite a bit, I generally confined my imbibing to those parts of the day most generally associated with tippling. I never really considered mid-morning to be one of those times, though my compatriots in the airport bar seemed not to mind. There were about six people at the bar by the time I left, each of them having drifted there singularly, drawn by the site of the World Cup in the background. From what I could tell, none of them knew each other before sitting down. I watched as each new arrival was welcomed into the fold, and in turn, warmly greeted his fellow revelers. I wondered--is there some link here? Are those with a propensity to drink mid morn simply more garrulous than others? Are shy people unlikely to drink publicly at this time of day? Who knows. They appeared to be having a fantastic time though.
I have been startled by the attractiveness of the women I've seen wandering around this airport. Can it be that the "show business" aspect of Nashville makes this a little LA, or Vegas? Perhaps I'll spend more time here next time.
I offended a goodly number of Facebook friends the other day by taking a bit of a shot at US soccer, pointing out that a nation of 2 million souls (Slovenia) had tied us--a nation of 310 million. After forty years of listening to how soccer's explosion in the US was just around the corner, I'm growing weary of our underperformance.
A bit more about "the beautiful game"? The injury faking is out of control, the writhing in pain, the obvious dives--this is making soccer into performance art. You don't see this in the women's game. Nope. Not like that.
Ok, enough airport rambling for now.
UPDATE: Oh, two more things: 1) one of the stadiums the world cup is played in looks like a pretzel from the side view. 2) I'm tired of all the majestic, Lion King sounding music that accompanies all the commercials for the soccer.
That was a lovely and generous gesture you made for Kitten Junior. Happy Father's Day.
ReplyDeleteEchoing Happy fathers day, hope you had a chance to call the Patriarch, Jimmy Wires. There is a certain camaraderie in the airport bar crowd, especially in the business lounges. Not sure if it comes from the miles, or the hours, or the fellowship of people who WILL slam down Bloody Mary's at the cyclic rate as soon as the bar opens, or order doubles as they are about to close. I always had a driver on both ends, which was another enabler of the "Double Pour for a Dollar more? You Bet!" crowd.
ReplyDeleteWhat's with the yellow highlights?
ReplyDeleteOh sure, lose the highlights and make me look silly.
ReplyDeleteGlad to see you're no longer a drunk, but just remember, we're holding your seat.
ReplyDeleteOh yeah one more thing. I would talk a little football (soccer) with you folks but it would be pearls before swine. You people don't have the requisite knowledge to appreciate the game.
ReplyDeleteCW makes my point. Diving everywhere right CW? We'll no not really. Apart from the Italians (hopeless cheats) it's been a pretty clean well officiated (don't say it, it's an isolated example) World Cup. And furthermore CW, you got a lot of nerve complaining about dirty cheating players having gone to the same school as Othell Wilson!
A redneck bore teaching us a little soccer? Get down from your high horse.
ReplyDeleteI'm a well traveled, worldly, educated Redneck you dimwitted asshole, and that beats a know nothing Yankee bastard any day of the week.
ReplyDeleteHammer--I do look to you for expertise in this realm, no doubt. And I don't really have much bitching about the refs--they seem to largely be able to look past the sniveling and whining and writhing in mock anguish.
ReplyDeleteIt's the sniveling and whining and writhing in mock anguish that gets me! You simply don't see world class women's soccer players doing it--they seem to be more "manly" than the men.
What is it with you and women's soccer CW? I watched it once, when we beat China a few years ago. Lesbians (or flat chested Tom-boys) playing sports doesn't interest me. Hey, God love 'em and to each his own but it doesn't hold a candle to Donovan staring down a goalie and parting his hair from 10 feet out. Now that's football!
ReplyDelete.....followed of course by Donovan rolling around like he's been gut shot five minutes later....
ReplyDelete