1 08 pm cst   [ airplane apples ]

I took my seat on the airplane. It was the middle of three seats. I knew immediately that my father had fouled up my airplane reservations. I always request and aisle seat. If he had forgotten the seat, he had probably forgotten the meal. I threw my hands in the air, metaphorically speaking. There was nothing I could do.

No one else was boarding the plane, so I got up and sought out and empty row. Minutes later, someone claimed the seat. I moved over. Then a final single couple got on board. I closed my eyes and though please don't let them be seated here but they were. I moved again, trying to keep from getting flustered. I sat on the window seat in the emergency exit row. My seat doesn't go back, and I can't lift up the arm rests, but at least I have an empty seat next to me. My father did indeed forget to order my special meal.

There is a rotund gentleman next to me. He is perhaps a few years younger than me, and he has spent the greater portion of the flight playing GameBoy. The next time I catch his attention, I will ask him what game. I am immersed in John Varley's Steel Beach which I am enjoying enough to know that I will be purchasing the Gaean trilogy eventually (Titan, Wizard, and Demon). In New York I will be reading my new Asimov collection, which I am hungry to bite into.

The man next to me made a phone call on the in-flight telephone for our row. Within minutes he was yelling at the callee about how angry he is, which I think begs the question, "Why did he make the phone call?" He didn't seem angry a minute before. Certainly some more GameBoy will sooth his temper.

My reading has been interrupted by the myriad thoughts that flick through my mind, and the fact that I cannot manage to find a remotely comfortable way of sitting in this chair. The wall next to me is freezing cold, and hundred of miniscule ice crystals have formed on the window. I used the remainder of my camera's battery power trying to take pictures of them. My camera has a much further view than I do, but its near sighted vision is sorely lacking compared to mine. The human eye is a wondrous thing.

My current train of thought is to come up with good topics of discussion for dinner with my grandfather. I have only come up with one: requesting for him to explain the stock market to me. We get along smashingly, but with a sixty-two year age difference, or conversation do fall off from time to time. I can only ask about the past or his day so many times. One of my favorite chats was walking back from dinner (or was it the grocery store) with him late one night. He has spent all eighty-five of his years on this planet living in New York, and all but fifteen of them living in New York City. I asked him if it was incredible to have seen so many changes in society. He said it was frightening and I understood that our discussions could never encompass even a fraction of his experience. I am looking forward to seeing him.

Airplanes always have the most fantastic apples. Whenever you take a cross country flight, you get a meal and a snack (and a few rounds of beverages). The snack often consists of a sandwich, an apple, and something for dessert, but this flight is cheap enough to only offer two crackers, an oat bar, a frighteningly small amount of cheese, and an apple. Airplane apples are always small and almost always slightly under-ripe. I prefer my fruit a bit under-ripe. Nectarines should be a bit hard and bananas are better to be a bit green then to start having spots on the skin.

* * *

< yesterday | month | tomorrow >
back to Rachel's Daily Diary