Visit to airport

A river of people flow past me at the airport, unending or so it seems.

One group after another comes up the elevator from the bowels of Hartsfield in Atlanta,
each intent in getting where they are supposed to be, looking around for someone,
others seem confused, dazed at the size of it all, then suddenly reading a sign,
a look of determination comes and they to are off.

Each so different, unique….. tall, fat, short, skinny, some beautiful, others perhaps not,
some well dressed, others, very, very, casual…… then there are those, well you can guess,
amazing how some don’t seem to care at all what they wear, or look like…..oh well,

perhaps they are just freer than most, not caring what hangs out or shows,
they just go on their merry way, perhaps it should be admired,
in any case I am not there yet, though I am not a very fancy dresser,
just ask my friends.

Then,
I must be getting old,
because of one of my reaction that was humorous,
yet also I was a little shocked.

A group of people poured past, young people, probably in their twenties,
a mixture of men and women, laughing and talking,
then I noticed a young man in the group, in a black skirt, a woman’s dress,
black and lacey, so I did a double take, smiled, shook my head,
laughed a little, then knew I was definitely getting old; dresses on men!

Robes I understand, men have worn them all through history,
skirts seem to be made only for women, perhaps I am wrong,
soon skirts will be the norm for young men, yet I somehow doubt it.

Hmmmm would men wear miniskirts, that is a scary thought,
very scary.

Lots of noise, messages being blared over the sound system, some yelling,
children running in between adults, parents frantic trying to keep track of them,
smells from the food court, tempted by the aroma of coffee, dark, black, strong,
enough to make your head seeming to float off the body up to the skylights,
I so love coffee, bitter, bitter, bitterest, it does not matter……&he llip;.
and yes the book store, with its tempting titles, books to answer all of life’s questions,
imagine that!
When perhaps there is really no one answer; seeking seems to be what we do.

Yet I still look for the book, a nice search, one I love, so I possibly don’t want to find that “book”,
I prefer to read many, for one book people scare me;
shitless,
if truth be told.

Found the one I was looking for, said hi, got his bags, prepaid my parking ticket,
and was thanked by the lifeless machine; almost said thank you back,
found my car, got out, traffic easy in south Atlanta, and we were off.

Stopped off for sushi and sake, served cold, for hot it is too buttery for me,
good conversation with a good friend, whom I have known for over thirty years,
talked about old times, the good old days, laughed,
as is the norm with friends, just had a very good time.

Over all I don’t mind going to the airport.

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