Airport Days

(I’m writing something everyday for #100days. This is 12/100).

Its routine. No matter the city. Regardless of the departure time.

Shoes off, laptop out, pull the belt through and into the basket. Reminders to discard of all liquids. Step forward please.

Airport days.

I don’t remember how many years its been exactly, that I travel this much, this often. 5, 10..I have lost count. There’s a way where you feel so full of familiarity in many places, and at the same time, like a ghost.

I’m in Seattle now, a city I know well. New buildings have grown in since I last came. Sometimes I can’t quite place myself in places that look familiar. Favorite restaurants are gone. We come and go, and places do too.

There is an aspect of it that is political. We could have a conversation about gentrification and the type of development that occurs in cities. Especially in the ones like here.

But there is also a part that is about the passage of time. Life just keeps going. Chaotic and a symphony all the same.

I have lived in Oakland, New York, San Francisco, Seattle, Phoenix…I’ve spent lots of time in Atlanta, Miami, Durham, Los Angeles and more and more in Chicago. Rolling stone. It has its benefits and its costs. I know I like that sandwich shop with that awesome sauce in South Beach, the variations and allegiances for barbecue in the South, to go for that run in Seward Park or just read in the subway again while in NYC. Its a luxury to have good friends to call, warm houses to visit in so many different places. And its hard that friends in the city I pay rent in don’t always call because they always assume I’m gone.

Sometimes I wonder how or if this will ever change. I’m sure it will. Like everything. I try to take it in, ride the wave of it and take a break when I need to. The constant going from place to place, the ways that upon my return, nor I nor the backdrop of place are quite the same. Just those airports.

Shoes off. Laptop out. Push the basket all the way through. Zone 1, 2…

Welcome on board Flight…to…Our aircraft is under the command of Captain…He/she has informed me that our flying time will be approximately…

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.