Day One-Wait for It

This post has little to do with Argentina, so if you’re not up for the usual banter that normally just happens in my mind, wait for it (the next post).

Five Hours Layover in Atlanta sounds more like a cause of death or an cover band at the Atlanta Chelsea Street Pub than an actual condition, but actually, I’m writing this first part in the Crown Club at Atlanta Hartsfield Airport, to which I’ve been granted admittance on the basis of having a business/first class ticket for trans-Atlantic travel. I have to say, traveling first class is only like the greatest thing EVER. Actually, first class now is probably about on par with pre-deregulation air flight, when the airlines had to compete on service because they couldn’t adjust their prices. That’s back when Southwest Airlines hired stewardesses based on their looks and gave away free bottles of whiskey. Also known as the really good old days. This place, although comfortable, is packed, which goes to show that airline service has become so wretchedly bad that people will pay a steep premium for basic comforts that were standard many years ago. Things like unlimited free drinks and snacks, a seat that didn’t used to be an isolation cage in the Hanoi Hilton, and getting to deal with airline employees who won’t jab your carotid artery with a ballpoint pen if you fail to ask your questions with a suitably pleasant tone. (The flight attendant actually asked if she could hang up my jacket). This no doubt is the oil company strategy. Gas was at $1.80 a gallon. They raised it to $4.20, and are now lowering it back to $3.30, which will seem like nirvana, except for the cranks and malcontents who remember $1.80 gas (actually, I remember 65 cent gas, and they gave you free dinner plates with every fill up…no I did not originally come to Texas in a covered wagon). So this has made the whole “what to do in Atlanta for five hours” question mostly moot.

Now that I have that out of the way, let me start writing about my adventure (as “Harlem Nocturne” begins to play on my iPod). Kathleen volunteered to drive me to the airport; thus proving once again she’s a girl who’ll take a man for a ride. The Austin airport is besieged with people traveling for the Labor Day holiday, or escaping the coming hurricane. In some cases its hard to tell. But in any event it’s a whole lot more people than your average Friday. Oddly, I don’t run into my old friend Laura A_____. The last two years in a row, we’ve run into each other on Labor Day weekend at the airport. After the usual cattle prodding at security, I made it through to Austin Java Company for my morning tea, to see all the TVs in the concourse showing news coverage of John McCain having selected Sarah Palin as his running mate? Uh, who? Michael Palin’s sister? Does she sell dead parrots (“its not dead, its pining for the fjords!”). This is a totally subtle and non-obvious move to pick off former Hillary voters (and suburban moms). Why didn’t he just ask Hillary to be his running mate herself? Interesting that Barry “Did I mention I support Change” Obama picked one of the biggest political hacks in Washington as his running mate, while “George W.” McCain picked the new personality. Maybe she’ll be cool and out-tough all the male Cabinet members, like Janet Reno or Glenn Close when she was Vice-President in Air Force One. Somewhere today, in front of a lighted vanity mirror having her hair done, Kay Bailey Hutchison is dying a slow death inside. Oh, and I’m sure its not the least bit revealing that the media monolith is giving three times the coverage to the Obama react (“McCain is panicking!”) as to the actual McCain announcement. Yeah, he’s panicking, what with him being even in the polls and now facing the daunting task of having to compete against that stellar Biden pick. Even George McGovern thinks picking Biden was a bad idea. Thank God for the blogs (subject of a future post). As I head out to watch more Maria Bartiromo…pausing to let that thought sink in…I see one of the physical therapists from Dr. Spears’ office with his Eva Braun wife and kids, making me realize I really need to get out less. The flight to ATL was non-eventful, except for the luxury of first class (bathrooms with hardwood floors, seats without the person next to you spilling over to your seat, not having to pull your legs up halfway to your chest, actual service….

In Atlanta, rather than having to sit in some sticky, undersized chair in the gate area with the rest of the riff-raff, I get to leather-chair it in the Crown Club. This place resembles the lobby of your average four-star downtown business hotel (think deluxe Westin). The only down side is no free internet access. I mean, I could have paid $6 for an hour, but I decided $6 was too much to pay to read forwarded jokes and whining client e-mails. Otherwise, its all you can eat trail mix, all you can drink of just about anything, nice restrooms, comfy chairs, waiters who clear your table when you're through, and TVs all around. I could make my office here very easily.

Tomorrow-I actually leave Atlanta, and arrive in Buenos Aires. ¡Arriba!