TomFlannery.com

Traveling for a few days. That means taking to the not-so-friendly-skies, where for some reason I’m always treated like a shoe-bomber in-waiting. I travel alone with one bag and Ipod earphones jammed in my ears and a book held about 6 inches from my nose, the perfect way to let the yahoo sitting next to you that you don’t wish to communicate at all. Like most people I despise the entire process of going anywhere by plane, where people are instantly transformed into sheep lest some government contractor making $8 an hour decides to pull you into a side room and taser you all in the name of national security. So I suppose I may look a bit sinister. And since I’m a raging insomniac with horrible allergies the circles around my eyes are generally the color of anthracite coal dipped in blood. So maybe that has something with what was once called my “vaguely middle-eastern” look by this guy I used to know who lived on nothing but drugs, Miller Beer, and cornflakes. I do miss my old friends. I wonder if they’re still alive?

Sorry. Off on a bit of a tangent there I suppose. Last time I flew the East Coast got hit with a biblical blizzard and I was stranded for 3 days with not very much to do except complain and drink endless Diet-Cokes. I’m hoping to keep to more of a schedule this time. Actually, there are parts of hotel life that suit a shut-in like myself. I really like the multiple locks on the doors and the fact that nobody is yelling at me for not doing stuff. I like room service, especially when it’s on somebody else’s tab, although I do feel a bit pretentious when the guy comes up my cheeseburger and fries on the tray and lays it down on the room table like it’s something reverential. I’d be just as happy if he wrapped it up in a paper bag and tossed it to me like a football. I like how you can feel like some big shit executive and get a wake-up call even in the shittiest of hotels although for some reason I never take advantage ’cause there’s a perfectly decent alarm clock right next to the damn phone. I like that feeling of being done for the day and entering a room that’s all made up and being able to use about 14 towels to dry yourself just to spite them when they put up those “safe the environment by using dirty towels” signs. I like being able to make the room ice cold ’cause I love to sleep when those gargantuan (and garish) hotel bedspreads are put to good use. 

But the best part about leaving home is that feeling you get when your plane is preparing to touch down to bring you back….home. You just feel good….even if, when you really think about it, “home” isn’t all that great of a place really. But it’s not about the physical location. It’s where your loved ones are….and that can lift up a sad and mostly depressed place into one that can still make you smile.

Safe journeys. And get back home.

In a bit…

–tf