I’m feeling just peachy, probably because I’m in Georgia on business this weekend. This is my first time to “The Peach State” and I’m super excited to add a new magnet to the metal map hanging in my office, which tracks my travels.
Yep, I’m one of those people who buys that cheesy souvie in tourist trap shops. Hey, at least it’s not a shot glass collection, right?
I love my map.
When too much time has gone by where my only travels are between Mount Laundry and Clutter Island, I look at my map to be reminded I have traversed the globe a bit. I’ve set foot in 5 foreign countries and 24 U.S. states (I’m still counting the time I straddled the Four Corners Monument as a tot, no matter what surveying controversies have arisen in recent years).
It might seem strange, but one of my favorite aspects of travel is the airport. I’m a people watcher and airports are fascinating human aquariums. I’m always curious about where people are going, why they are going, whom they are meeting, and why in the world would they travel in that outfit. Women who wear stilettos to travel are baffling. They’ve obviously never had to navigate the Dallas-Fort Worth airport.
On the other end of the spectrum are the pajama-clad travelers. We all want to maximize comfort during air travel since great scientific research has gone into the logistics of designing a personal seating space on an airplane that is just shy of being adequate. However, I feel people over the age of four who use public transportation facilities owe it to humanity to do so in something other than their jammies.
This trip I noticed the overwhelming choice of travel wear for women is leggings. Well, I suppose an overwhelming choice of lower body wear for women anytime nowadays is leggings. I’m not sure when hosiery products became the equivalent of pants, but the airport sampling I witnessed confirmed popular acceptance.
I take it back.
You can wear pajamas.
At least a baggy pair of flannel PJ bottoms leaves something to the imagination.
A favorite airport sighting this trip was the unusually cheerful security guard who jovially shouted out screening assignments based on whether or not he thought you ate your vegetables. It was barely 5:00 a.m. and his animated exuberance in performing a mundane job at an ungodly hour made it clear he’s embraced “The FISH! Philosophy” for the workplace.
Anyhoo, I’m enjoying the South. I was almost able to enjoy it in a sporty red VW Bug when the rental car lady offered us our choice of any economy car on the lot, but the cowboy I’m traveling with felt a threat to his man card so I let him choose our ride. When he was seriously torn between a Buick and a Chrysler I said, “Just pick one, Idaho, and let’s go!”
Even in a rented Buick, I’m just happy to be away. School’s been out for 30 whole days and I’m not doing as well as the security guard at applying FISH! principles to my thankless job as summer youth supervisor. But after this trip I’ll go home and try to be a peach.