Monday, October 14, 2013

THEY DIDN'T TOUCH HIS BRAIN: Things Seen and Heard in a 3 Hour Layover in Atlanta

Greetings from the beautiful New England state of Connecticut.  Yesterday was spent traveling the nation's airways without a single glitch and the luck of being in a three seat row in the plane, with only two people, both flights!  The entertainment for the day was provided in my three hour layover in Atlanta which was by my choice.  I don't like cutting my connections too close.  And airports are good places to watch the world go by.

As soon as I got to the gate to wait for the next leg of the trip, I whipped out my handy dandy VB notebook and started writing down the conversations and observations of the world going on around me, while tied to the charging station for my IPod.  I could only hope the father and daughter sitting next to me didn't have an exceptional ability to read what I was writing, but I think he was too consumed in her constant need for his attention.  He was charging his IPad.   The disconnected mother was sitting an aisle away, reading a book, but she may have had the pleasure of sitting with her daughter on the previous flight and one would need a break, even from your own child.

The conversations are in order of speaking but a couple of the observations are out of place.

Thirty something father and his eight year old daughter.  She never sat still for more than one moment.  I know because all that divided the two of us was a small formica-topped bench for placement of charging devices.  If my IPod hadn't been there I have no doubt someone would have been tap dancing on the table. 

Daddy, I have to go.   Daddy, I have to blow my stuffy nose.   I have to see your IPad, Daddy.   I want my IPod.  I want to lay down, Daddy.  Daddy, I want face time.  I'm thirsty. 

A couple walking down the concourse, in plaid shirts in the same colors but different variations, matching jean colors. 

A strange looking young man with his arm in a sling, walking along with what looked liked a silver writing pen in his mouth.  He stopped across from me, getting  a small round cardboard container from his bag, and pulled out a bottle with brown liquid.  He unscrewed the pen and with the bottle dropper refilled the pen.  Put everything back in place and continued on his way, sucking on the pen, lost in his world of noise canceling headphones.

Please maintain control of your bags at all times.

A baby crying every time there is not a grape in his fat little hand, destined for his mouth.

An officer crisply dressed in desert camo, headed for Afghanistan.

Trim, skinny people have very small bags.

Daddy do you want to play?  (Patticake)  My mother is a baker.........My sister is a hairdresser......
Daddy, what is a concourse?  Daddy, what is a terminal?

Be at your gate thirty minutes before departure.

Twenty men in snappy navy sailor suits in loose formation walking down the concourse.

A dachshund's head sticking out of a shoulder carry on bag. 

Daddy, I need some Kleenex, now.  Daddy, I want to board now.

They didn't touch his brain, so why is he having problems.

A beautiful, tall, blonde, well built couple, wearing white knit gym slacks, white newspaper boy caps, holding white knit jackets.  Wearing similar black patterned tees and plenty of gold jewelry. Her shirt was a little tighter and lower than his.

Little girl in a stroller, laying down sucking on her pacifier, very relaxed, looking around, playing with her hair like she was playing a fiddle.

Lou Diamond Phillips look-alike.


A happy person who was not seated on the airplane anywhere near the Daddy Girl.


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