Random Thoughts at pbi

Last night my cat hit the late bars and did not saunter back to the house until 1:10 am.  Since I usually am either asleep or very ready at 11, this meant that I was a sour and sleepy fellow when I heard his "meow" by the screen door.  I had camped on the couch with the slider open and just the screen closed, knowing that his m.o. when he comes back is to squeal for entrance.  So, I waited and he meowed, and I felt that this is how it must feel to be a parent and wait for your kid who has broken curfew and not called.  Half fury, half love.  Cat walks in like he has not been a delinquent.  Little miffed that he had to meow more than once before I got up from the couch.  I go upstairs and can't get to sleep, start watching an old movie. Probably got three hours of zs before the Pump came upstairs to sit on my head.

So that was last night.

Now I sit at West Palm Beach airport waiting room about 24 hours after Pumpkin came back from his shenanigans.  I am meeting my brother here and his plane is late.  Storms in Charlotte where he connected.  He is not due for another 45 minutes. He, however--unlike my cat--has a decent excuse.

Interesting scene here at 1:05 am.  There is a waiting area like none I have ever seen.  It is not extravagant, just set up like executive seats at a ballgame. Big glass windows separating those waiting from those parading by looking exhausted from their travels.  Nice comfy seats.

Odd assortment of those waiting.  I am guessing about half the people here are also waiting for the Charlotte flight which, I imagine, is the last one of the day.  But in addition, there are at least two people who are here early for a morning flight.  Can't quite figure out why someone would get here at 1 for even a 5 am flight unless they wanted to beat the hotel expense.  Neither of the parties with bags look like they are one per centers.  But at 1 in the morning, who does.

I wonder when the last time was when I stayed up until 1 am. for two consecutive days.  This is typically around when I get up for the first time and do the sober man's drunk-like stumble to the bathroom.  Actually, probably more like 2 when that takes place, but who knows what time it is; I am half asleep when I roll out.  I think the last time I stayed up until 1 two days in a row I was in college.  When I think about habits at that time, I marvel that my stomach has not quit.  The boys would go out to imbibe and then at 2 when the bars closed would pack into someone's vehicle for scrambled eggs and sausage at an all night diner that should have been condemned before Japan surrendered.  I did note that the last time I was back in Albany that it was no longer open--the shack falling apart--but it was no sturdy building at the time.

To entertain those waiting, there is a tv playing CNN at a volume that could wake up those dead for several years.  It is impossible to read in this waiting room with the decibel level.  The stories that repeat on CNN suggest how we have not evolved a whole hell of a lot.  One of the two killers who escaped from prison in the New York north country has been shot. The other is on the loose.  President Obama has delivered a eulogy because once again, some sick, stupid, racist puke, decided it was high time to kill black people because they are black.  Three terrorist attacks--apparently coordinated--took place in other countries this morning.  And gays have been granted the right to marry by only one vote.  5-4.  Four supreme court justices voted against civil rights.  The vitriol in their dissents will be something that will stain their grandchildren.

Ages ago I dated a woman who told me she could easily be a night person.  I knew right then we would never click.  She said she could stay up until 4 or 5 or even 6, then sleep until noon and start again.  Nothing wrong with that if that is what you like.  You might have some trouble getting a bite to eat around 4, however, unless you live in Manhattan or Dewey's Diner in Albany makes a comeback.  West Palm Beach airport has nothing open. Not a thing. And meanwhile, I have trod through Boston's hoo hah big city airport when a flight has come in late and it is not exactly hopping there either. Boston, for a big city, closes pretty tight at around 11.

Independence day looms.  Ironic that it is only if we have love and are connected that we can truly be independent.