To Kindle, or not to Kindle. That is the question.
Whether tis nobler to snap crackle pop with technology, or to tote fresh-off-the-cataloger's-desk library books that do not require recharging but take up space and add weight to the carry-on bag, Thanksgiving travel is going to require reading material for the inevitable delays.
Friends, Romans, countrymen, as we pushback from the gate the flight attendants are demonstrating safety measures, so look up from your books and lend them your ears. You might not even have to power down your ebook reader.
Packing is a fine exercise where the what-ifs meet the essentials, the potential improvs, the weather events, and the future in-laws. It is always good to have all your medications readily accessible in case you end up sitting between a big bucket collecting roof drips, a sweaty man holding a giant box of donuts, a nursing mom with one boob hanging out, and bickering preteens as the delays pile up. Yes, you will be ready to check your luggage at the gate for free when the airline gets sufficiently desperate. Yes, you will be willing to take a later flight just so there are no shrieking red-head preschool twins on the passenger list.
The trouble with immortality is eternity. The fountain of youth starts looking like an infinite afterschool detention with the eighth-grade English teacher of your worst nightmare. She would not just let me say this novel is like People of the Book with a splash of Jitterbug Perfume.
Neither a borrower nor a lender be; For loan oft loses both itself and friend, and leaves books in the seat compartment or overhead bin.
To sleep, perchance to dream, no doubt: A page or two, and this self-loading freight's out. If I'm stuck in the center seat, I might snore and drool.
Full upright and locked I come not to carry-on Caesar, but to get my 3-1-1 liquids through security and my shoes retied. Doesn't look like the owls are going to fit.
I already got a minor adjustment haircut for the holiday.
© 2013 Nancy L. Ruder
2 comments:
You crack me up.
Also, I was just re-reading Emily Dickinson's poem, "Because I could not stop for death" this morning. It moves from immortality to eternity.
Ah, Kathleen, I hope he's not my seatmate! http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15395
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