Take me to St. Looie ...
Tonight I come to you live from a St. Louis airport where I am deep into a delay caused by poor weather conditions on the East coast. Ironically, my incoming flight to Missouri – which was business related, me not being one to take the metaphorical imagery of a giant steel arch too seriously – was delayed (then cancelled!) as well. Now, I’m no Sam Champion (being neither a weatherman nor latently homosexual) but I’m pretty sure that my flight issues on Friday and then Monday were caused by the same weather system that rolled through the Great Plains and into the New York metropolitan area at a rate that improbably managed to perfectly sync up to my individual travel plans. Obviously, this was fucking awesome luck.
They should make a movie about me where Shooter McGavin looks deep into the camera and utters gravely, “This is another … perfect storm.” I cannot foresee a scenario where this doesn’t make more money than a Justin Timberlake suburban gang biopic.
So yeah, me bitching about my life in real time and then sending it up to the Internet for public digestion makes me almost like a real-life “blogger.” This is unchartered territory for sure. Pretty soon, I’ll be adding superfluous links to my text and people will start leaving comments that aren’t about penis-enlargement medications or weight loss/anti-depressant hybrid pharmaceuticals. This could be the beginning of something big.
(FAST FORWARD 20 MINUTES. AFTER A TWO-HOUR DELAY, DAN HAS BEEN INSTRUCTED TO BOARD AEROPLANE. DAN PUTS AWAY LAPTOP, GRABS TOM PETTY BIOGRAPHY AND SETTLES INTO SEAT FOR TRIP HOME. THE RESIDENT ANGRY BLACK STEWARDESS THEN ALERTS ALREADY EDGY PASSENGERSHIP THAT AEROPLANE WILL NOW TAXI FOR 120 ADDITIONAL MINUTES. DAN WONDERS INTERNALLY WHY HE WAS BOARDED IN THE FIRST PLACE AND ALSO IF GOD EXISTS. ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, THE MUSIC FILTERING OUT OF THE SPEAKERS OF CONTINENTAL FLIGHT 2521 IS THE THEME FROM KARATE KID II. THAT’S THE ONE IN JAPAN WHERE THE GUY PLEDGES REVENGE ON MYAGI FOR STEALING HIS GIRL LIKE 70 YEARS AFTER THE FACT AND DANIEL-SAN NAILS SOME HOMELY LOCAL THAT ISN’T A QUARTER AS HOT AS ELISABETH SHUE. IT WAS DUMB.)
The St. Louis airport – I don’t know its name although I’m sure it has one – is very, very low key when compared to the JFK, La Guardia or Newark Liberty (which pretty much seems to be the case throughout the country.) The lines are shorter, the ceilings are lower, the lights are darker, the security guards less dickey. I feel like an airport says a lot about its city; it’s representative in a way. And that’s the case here. I also saw a cop on a Segueway, which was pretty much the highlight of my weekend. I wasn’t here long enough to make a judgment either way, but I’ll give you some quick hits about St. Louis before I go.
-- It’s cold as ballz
-- They love their Cardinals at a level difficult to fathom
-- Some people have accents, some don’t and there doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it
-- My cab driver gave me some great info about the area’s recent history (ALWAYS pick the brain of your cab driver about a new city you’re in … they love that shit and you’ll learn something.) If he doesn’t speak English, feel free to be silent and continue thinking he’s a terrorist
-- The arch thing is actually stainless steel (I think) and people carve stuff into the base of it, something I found surprising.
-- Nelly was there … in spirit
-- I don’t think they get VH-1
-- Did I mention I saw a cop on a Segueway?
Okay, my plane’s about to take off, although it’s kind of snowing now. This is turning into some real Richie Valens “La Bamba” shit. Looking forward to heading back … the one thing I keep taking out of these visits to different American cities is how great my hometown actually is. Take me home, country roads.
They should make a movie about me where Shooter McGavin looks deep into the camera and utters gravely, “This is another … perfect storm.” I cannot foresee a scenario where this doesn’t make more money than a Justin Timberlake suburban gang biopic.
So yeah, me bitching about my life in real time and then sending it up to the Internet for public digestion makes me almost like a real-life “blogger.” This is unchartered territory for sure. Pretty soon, I’ll be adding superfluous links to my text and people will start leaving comments that aren’t about penis-enlargement medications or weight loss/anti-depressant hybrid pharmaceuticals. This could be the beginning of something big.
(FAST FORWARD 20 MINUTES. AFTER A TWO-HOUR DELAY, DAN HAS BEEN INSTRUCTED TO BOARD AEROPLANE. DAN PUTS AWAY LAPTOP, GRABS TOM PETTY BIOGRAPHY AND SETTLES INTO SEAT FOR TRIP HOME. THE RESIDENT ANGRY BLACK STEWARDESS THEN ALERTS ALREADY EDGY PASSENGERSHIP THAT AEROPLANE WILL NOW TAXI FOR 120 ADDITIONAL MINUTES. DAN WONDERS INTERNALLY WHY HE WAS BOARDED IN THE FIRST PLACE AND ALSO IF GOD EXISTS. ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, THE MUSIC FILTERING OUT OF THE SPEAKERS OF CONTINENTAL FLIGHT 2521 IS THE THEME FROM KARATE KID II. THAT’S THE ONE IN JAPAN WHERE THE GUY PLEDGES REVENGE ON MYAGI FOR STEALING HIS GIRL LIKE 70 YEARS AFTER THE FACT AND DANIEL-SAN NAILS SOME HOMELY LOCAL THAT ISN’T A QUARTER AS HOT AS ELISABETH SHUE. IT WAS DUMB.)
The St. Louis airport – I don’t know its name although I’m sure it has one – is very, very low key when compared to the JFK, La Guardia or Newark Liberty (which pretty much seems to be the case throughout the country.) The lines are shorter, the ceilings are lower, the lights are darker, the security guards less dickey. I feel like an airport says a lot about its city; it’s representative in a way. And that’s the case here. I also saw a cop on a Segueway, which was pretty much the highlight of my weekend. I wasn’t here long enough to make a judgment either way, but I’ll give you some quick hits about St. Louis before I go.
-- It’s cold as ballz
-- They love their Cardinals at a level difficult to fathom
-- Some people have accents, some don’t and there doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it
-- My cab driver gave me some great info about the area’s recent history (ALWAYS pick the brain of your cab driver about a new city you’re in … they love that shit and you’ll learn something.) If he doesn’t speak English, feel free to be silent and continue thinking he’s a terrorist
-- The arch thing is actually stainless steel (I think) and people carve stuff into the base of it, something I found surprising.
-- Nelly was there … in spirit
-- I don’t think they get VH-1
-- Did I mention I saw a cop on a Segueway?
Okay, my plane’s about to take off, although it’s kind of snowing now. This is turning into some real Richie Valens “La Bamba” shit. Looking forward to heading back … the one thing I keep taking out of these visits to different American cities is how great my hometown actually is. Take me home, country roads.
posted by Dan Hanzus at 12:27 PM
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