flying

Airline travel is boring. There are flashes of wonder...the view of California spreading out majestically from 30,000 feet, the lush greenery of the greater Houston area that overwhelms you as you land, the thrilling spectacle of seeing lightning flash in clouds at the same level that you're flying at...but mostly it's boring.

This occurred to me more than once as I flew on the first leg of my journey...San Diego to Houston...with a good book (T.C. Boyle's The Inner Circle), a bad movie (Mike Myers shamelessly mugging his way through an insufferable adaptation of Dr. Suess' classic "The Cat in the Hat"), and so-so food to pass the time. I read some, cringed at the movie some, and dozed some. An hour in the expansive Houston airport (the one named after George Bush I) and then on to the second leg of the trip...on a smaller plane with, thankfully, no movie at all...read a lot, dozed a bit, had some more so-so food, and another bit of wonder...landing in Norfolk, VA at night (all cities look breathtaking when sparkling in the dark)...and it was finally done.

In a couple of weeks, I'll retrace my steps and head back to "America's finest city". And, undoubtedly, it will be boring too.