Michael Thiele is a woodsmith who makes musical instruments and playable furniture. He spends most of his life either in the shop or out on the road buying wood and selling his work at craft shows. In recent years, his travels have begun to inspire his own writing, so he sends me his thoughts.
What a difference a day makes
As I sat at the airport yesterday disparaging - well - airports. I was punished for being so narrow minded. After all, it is a closed marketplace. From whence does this form of travel commence? Oh……airports. That’s where the damn planes hang out. Yesterday, at least in my case, they did precisely that. Hang out. Nothing else. They just hung out. I ate two airport meals and went nowhere except in my mind.
There is this nasty little thing called weather. Not my weather - not in Tampa, mind you. Freezing rain hit my connecting destination, Houston. My son Joah, several days earlier while booking my journey back to the studio for the week, had asked my preference - did I want to route through Chicago, Denver or Houston. Let me see, it’s winter. Hmm. Where does bad weather hang out this time of year? Oh yeah, that’s right. Up north. Give me Houston, I told him. No brainer.
I was unmoved when they announced that the Tampa to Houston leg of my flight would board an hour late. The Houston layover was going to be three hours anyway. No biggie. At the revised time we boarded the United flight and headed out onto the tarmac where we proceeded to sit for an additional hour, at which juncture it was announced that we would be heading back to the gate to await updates out of Houston. The icy runways I would have expected at either Chicago or Denver had been somehow reassigned by the Travel Gods to Houston. Not exactly a resounding affirmation of my wisdom in choosing Houston as the transfer point. In fairness, a soothsayer would not have seen this coming. Total miles traveled toward home: one quarter of one. Hope the tarmac enjoyed my visit. Final score: Weather Gods 1, Michael 0.