Flying back to Arizona

My cell phone alarm got me up at 4:30am this morning. Fifteeen minutes later I was in the shower, 30 minutes later I was downstairs drinking more gourmet coffee. Iris and Ed in all their morning glory went downstairs to see me off, with another coffee to go in my hand.

Iris gave me perfect directions to the BWI airport. I was there in 30 minutes. This time the counter help at Southwest wasn't nearly as friendly as they normally are. "Trish," the young blonde customer rep, talked condescendingly to me when I complained about the self-service monitor not accepting my imput.

"See? It's not difficult at all!" she exclaimed as she punched in my personal information to get my boarding pass. Why can't airlines just hire real people to do the check-in more effectively?

TSA personnel at this airport were mostly Russian, Haitian and other Third World Immigrants with heavy accents. But at least they were professional.

I kept busy with a book I purchased at the American Indian Museum: "Forgotten Allies," a detailed book about the Oneida Nation's collaboration with American rebels in the Revolutionary War. For their gratitude the US government took more land away from them, eventually forcing many to settle west of the Appalachian Mountains.

My flights back to Arizona were both crowded. My first flight put me in an aisle seat, but once back in Chicago (this time completely avoiding the Superdawg eatery) I got a window seat, and watched how the green fields below slowly gave way to brown, arid hills of the Southwest before we landed in the parched hills of Tucson. The gian open-pit mine of Morenci, AZ was quite visible from the air.

I do like the Tucson airport for its convenience. After grabbing my bag I hopped on the Economy Parking bus shuttle, and by 2:30pm, just 30 minutes after landing, I dropped off my bags of recyclables which sat in my SUV all week, and quickly got to Bookman's on Speedway where I turned in more books for credit, picked up two more.

I finished my stop in Tucson at Chuy's where I arrived just after the start of Happy Hour. I dined on a delicious order of chicken enchiladas that were grilled in sour cream. It was so tasty I ordered two more orders for Kevin for dinner.

After a short stop at the college to confirm the cancellation of one of my history courses (rats, as that means I have to take more history courses in subsequent semesters just to get my major completed!) I was home by 6:30pm.

I was glad to get back home again. As much as I love to travel, the pace of the last week was a bit too fast for me, but that's life on the East Coast. Despite the politics, culture and diversity of the Mid Atlantic, I do appreciate the more slower pace of our Southwest.