Waiting

The Atlanta Airport is a place I both love and hate, a sentiment that is probably common for those who live in the area, or for anyone who has to go thru.   Picking someone up can be a long drawn out affair, especially with the small airlines, which often don’t do a good job in letting those waiting, the ‘real’ time the flight is due.  For instance last night I went in to pick up someone as a favor for a friend, easy to do since I knew the person I was waiting for, and liked him.  The flight was due at 7:20, the monitor stated it was coming in ten minutes late, but then it came in at 8:45.  The flight had to circle the city for awhile.  A lot of delayed flights seemed to have arrived at the same time hence the back up. 

Waiting at baggage claim, or in the central lobby, where the escalators bring the passengers from the five concourses, can be an interesting experience.  Just about every language in the world can be heard spoken there, either with their fellow country men, or yes on the cell phone.  I think just about everyone I saw last night, including myself of course, had a cell phone, and many were wearing the ear modules, and acting  like mad men and women, just talking away into the air, laughing, arguing etc.  I suppose if someone were really talking to themselves, it would be assumed that they had some very new hidden type of cell phone, somewhere on their person.

While there I saw a group of people wandering around, from the North side to the South, and back again.  They were foreigners, so I finally went up as asked if they needed help.  One of them spoke English, a very large man with a white beard; who said that they were simply looking for one of their party that was lost.  So I left them, later they seemed to have found the lost sheep and left.

I stationed myself behind one of the partitions that faced the unending crowds being spit out by the escalator and waited.  It is amazing, after about 20 minutes of watching this phenomenon, the feeling comes of watching water rushing towards you, and breaking both right, and left, and continuing on its journey.  At one point in this trance state I noticed a pair of eyes looking right at me in the distance, an old lady coming towards me and not taking her eyes off of me.  She seemed to be in her late 70’s or early 80’s, and I supposed she was in trouble and needed help, so I gave her a smile, and encouraged her to come closer.  She walked up to me and showed me a picture of a man, the very man I asked earlier if he needed help with anything.  It seemed that the group was Russian. and I guess he was some sort of travel guide.  She spoke no English, but she did under stand about cell phones, and showed me another paper with two numbers.  I tried the 404 area code, and got a man on the other end, and told him my dilemma with the women.   He directed me to go back to the center lobby and go next to the rest room there, and someone would be waiting for the Lady.  She was a trusting soul, and proceeded to follow me, we finally found the man, or he found us; came up and spoke Russian, so I left, and went back to my vigil. Funny that she would approach me, while not mean looking, my very long beard can put people off at times, perhaps she thought I was Russian.

Then I saw a large line of young people filing by, and came to the conclusion that they must be newly enlisted. Most seemed like they should still be in High School, perhaps an indicator of my quickly becoming a member of the senior generation; in a few years my parents generation will for the most part be gone, that just leaves the baby boomers to step to the front of the line, and take a ticket.  More and more people look like they are very young, when in fact they are not.  I felt for them, knowing what they had to go thru in order to be able to operate well in the Military.  I was in the Navy from 67-71, and boot camp was no picnic, can’t be, they have to break you in, and have a limited time to do it.  I also felt some real sadness for them, knowing that some of them could very well be dead or crippled within a year, if they were sent over to Iraq, or perhaps by then even Iran.  So much innocence waiting to be taken away and used by the government to protect what is perceived to be for the benefit of the country; perhaps it is, I am a moron when it comes to politics, but I can’t say I liked what I saw.

It is frustrating; war seems to be something we can’t shake, even though the price to be paid is very high, and in most cases does not work.  I think we are trapped and not free in this regard at all.  Hopefully we will learn, and this killing will stop, but I will not hold my breath.

You never know what is going to happen at the airport.