Sitting a terminal at Logan Airport, I am reminded of something my grandfather told me about the time he worked at the airport after WWII. He told me that not only do you see a wide range of people, but just about every type of emotion and life on display. Today is no exception.
At the bar while I had breakfast, I talked with a salesman heading home to New Orleans, glad to be heading home after a good trip selling parts for water pumps. He was also a bit drunk after his third Jack & coke at 9:30 AM.
Across from me right now is a family of five, all five of them on an electronic device of some sort, and none of them look very happy to be there, or even to be together. Especially the young teenage girl, who is slugging back a large Starbucks coffee like it was the cure to a poison she just took.
There are two gay men speaking what sounds like French, arguing about something, and across the aisle are a teenage couple who are trying hard to not laugh at them, as they are very nearly caricatures in their mannerisms.
A gunnery sergeant in casual fatigues is checking in at the desk, heading to DC to get ready to deploy for his third tour in Afganistan. I want to take him back to the bar and buy him a couple of beers. He is in his 50s at least, and it's the least I can do for a gunny.
There is a collection of businessmen and women, tired-looking people dragging little kids who look either excited or terrified to the terminal, in for a very long day.
I need to board soon, but really, who needs the electronics and TVs? Good sunglasses that prevent people from noticing you stare, and a decent imagination to make up the back stories for all these people, and it's hours of entertainment…