Back in the Midwest

My. Oh my. Had a fabulous weekend in Manhattan (of which I will tell in future posts,) and got on a plane at 1130 this morning to fly to Minnesota for my 10 days here.

There is something about boarding a flight to the somehow feel that you've actually left as soon as you get to the gate. You're surrounded by friendly types with broad Fargo-esque accents, wearing shoes that are more sensible than fashionable. The average BMI of the people around you goes up about 2 - 5 points. (This is not said in a snarky way, a) because I, myself, raise the average for most groups, and b) I did not set it off with the tell-tale "*".) Waistbands rise about two inches and you see more Dockers per capita than you have in a long time. People chat to strangers and place considerate phone calls to their loved ones alerting them to the status of their flight. (Yes, in my travels I've found this to be more prevalent when flying to Chicago and Minneapolis. Apparently we don't want our friends and family to wait too long at the airport when they pick us up.)

I was flying in First Class for this leg of the trip. NWA was running a fare deal when I ticketed and I got the better seat for a small amount more. I was the only woman up there. The hammy, golf-shirted, center-parted, slightly red-faced men wearing too much cologne gave me the skunk eye when I took my seat...Who is that slightly bohemian woman in 2D? Her hair is a mess, and she's not wearing makeup. She's got too much cleavage showing. And she's carrying a bag that looks like something my 14 year old daughter would use. This has to be a mistake. Nope, you aging frat boys, unlike you folks who bullied the desk agent to get yourself an upgrade, I paid for this seat.

Spent the flight in my iPod, listening to some calming Teddy Thompson and a bit of Arctic Monkeys. The boys around me talked about their golf game. The guy next to me made small talk during lunch, and when he found out I was on my way home from England he asked me if I was on a break from school. Those who know me will admit that I don't look anywhere near my age, something for which I am grateful as my age gets higher and higher. (I think it's the not-married-no-children keeps you young and prevents you from buying mommyjeans. In watching my friends and acquaintances, I've found they've had to be pretty Tenacious in order to maintain a sense of style after starting a family. It's a lot of work and their schedules go to hell, not to mention their budgets shrink with the demands of children.) But I found it pretty amusing that the balding alpha male next to me copped a condescending "AH! to be young and on school break" attitude with me, considering I've probably got a few years on him. It actually made my day.

The MSP airport has improved significantly in the last few years, and we landed at my favourite concourse...I love C! Had perfect tram karma, and my bags were the first ones off the belt. I felt very foreign in the airport. Was glad to get safely to Karen and Darlene's, where I've spent the afternoon napping and watching Food TV. It's been a walloping thunderstorm for the past forty minutes with vertical rain in buckets. It's good to be home.


Dale said…
This post seems to have it all, Manhattan, the change in temperature and feeling as you move toward home, the First Class snobbery, iPodding, compliments and rain. Nice.
lulu said…
did you capitalize the T in tenacious as a nod to the always stylish, no-mama-jean wearin', rocking mommy that is tenS?
Melinda June said…
Thanks, Dale. I aim to be minimal yet inclusive in my posting.

Lu, yes I DID intentionally use the word Tenacious as a nod to the mighty one. And a couple other friends, but primarily TS.
Tenacious S said…
Thanks, MJ! You rock too! I'd rock even more, but then I'd get fired from my job.

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