Copper Trip Series: Destination… Blizzard

22 12 2006

I am now on an airplane to Denver with puffs of snow in the sky. It was a very long wait before we could get onto the airplane, since Denver was having a LOT of snow.

Finally, we were cleared to take off. After spending three hours on the airplane with a tight schedule (first two hours: reading SkyMall; last hour: Continental Magazine), we finally touched down.

At one I noticed there was a great change. I had thought (my dad too) that the runway was plowed cleanly and the concrete could be showing through.

But Denver’s airport was nothing like that. In fact, we were landing straight into the snow where only little lighted sticks told us where the huge 757 jet was landing.

When we had already actually connected to the walkway and had begun to walk off the airplane, I noticed the terminal. Still glorious with the ceiling shaped like mountains, this was Denver all right.

But the strange thing was that outside it was much more colder than the last time I came. A little bit of asking led me to know that the airplane and the walkway had frozen together and created a slippery surface: so slippery they had to put down blankets.

As soon as I walked into the airport, I began to feel much more comfortable. The usual airport atmosphere began to make me feel much more common.

The “advanced security features” were blared out from the airport speakers, along with the “please take close care of your baggage” notices. I noticed all the airports used the same very clear but annoying voice.

When we got to the baggage claim, my mom headed for carousel number seven. I checked the arrivals board for Houston, and then hollered for my mom to go to number one.

There, I waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Etc., etc., etc. Really. I waited for an hour and a half, the whole time checking the carousel to see if any of them were Houston.

And the strange thing was, nothing was from Houston. It was from Tacoma, or from Seattle, or from Cleveland, but nothing was from Houston. And the bizarre thing about that was that Houston was on the “For This Carousel” electronic display board the whole time, yet all the other cities or towns were occasionally missing from the electronic board and then popping back onto the display.

It didn’t take long to notice that almost NOBODY was taking things off the carousel. It was just turning around and around with the same baggage. And what happens when a lot of things that are very heavy go on to something that is turning? It stops. So that’s exactly what happened to the carousel.

(continued on next post)




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