San Francisco Morning

A cool stillness filled the yellow hue over the scrub mountain, a natural horizon almost lost behind the hard landscape of buildings, overpasses, billboards and power lines.

“What's that smell?” She asked her traveling partner. They lead their wheeled luggage across the parking lot.

“The industrial district south of the airport.” He replied while checkng his blackberry for early morning email.

I inhaled, slow and shallow, to avoid the smoke enveloping two Japanese business men standing curbside. The airport shuttle was due any minute.

My long day ended at the Best Western, second floor, end of the hall, room 229. The Bay Area night air seeped through the window that refused to close tightly. The environment control unit pulled double duty as air conditioner and heater. I kicked it alive and cranked it to 76. Then drew a hot bath. From Chicago to LA I sat near the bulkhead door and felt every minus 57 degrees radiate through the metal hatch. Near the end of the trip I pulled on my feet into my seat to warm them as I watched ice bears go to battle in the Golden Compass. I love Sam Elliot, but please, what was that movie all about?

In the week that American Airlines left thousands of customers stranded swearing never again to fly the airline as I had done in 1976 when I was left stranded in Chicago (yes, for thirty two years I have avoided American as much as possible), and despite the bump in Albany, United did a fine job getting me across the country. Okay I got a free ticket, two meal vouchers, and the cutest little toilet article kit that ever breezed through airport security. Last night upon arriving at the customer service counter, the agent made the hotel arrangements and checked on the whereabouts of my bags. They were in Kona and should be waiting for me when I arrive at 11:30 AM.

Knowing the hell my fellow travelers faced this week due to failed inspections of some wiring harness I figured my delay was harmless. It was best to go about my travel experiences with that attitude. Was there any other option?

There were a few hurdles to overcome. When the pilots didn’t show up for an hour and a half in LA, the plane sat with no air conditioning at the gate. Despite the icicles hanging off my pant legs from the previous flight, I too debarked with the rest of the passengers to wait on the pilots in the terminal.

In Chicago, United also managed to get the plane off with just a ten minute delay by basically saying, “Screw it. We don’t need the toilets in the middle of the plane. We’ll fly with just the two – first class and the one in the rear.” It was that or cancel the flight the captain informed us. He thought the passengers would appreciate his decision. Oh yeah. The crew made bad jokes about American all the way across the country.



I rag on Newark’s airport with reason. In the San Francisco airport this morning waiting for the flight to Kona, it just feels better. Maybe it is the sunshine.

The plane to Kona was overbooked and they went looking for volunteers. I thought about it, but I wouldn't get to Kona until eight this evening. Decided it was time to get someplace warmer. Besides, if I hung around the airport all day, I’d have to work on my sister’s website.