Ink, traveling, and the art of happiness

Hi. It's probably about 8:25 PM and I'm cruising somewhere between twenty and thirty thousand feet. First, and hopefully only point in question, no, I'm not updating my blog right now, twenty thousand feet over the continental US. I'm somewhere between Cincinnati and Norfolk, scribbling this down on my beverage napkin, trying to avoid the wet spots when possible. 

I've been in Cincinnati the past 24 hours on business. Unfortunately, I hope you understand, I have no stories of lavish 1st Class flights or decadent hotel suites. The Hilton was quite classy, but I'm sure I had the smallest available room (no complaints though, the shower's water pressure was above par).

I just glanced out the cabin window of the small Embraer I'm flying in to see the moon bathing a sea of clouds in a yellow glow. This directs my attention to the right side of my chest which will read from now on "We'll see the beauty in life again..." The needle didn't too badly, it got almost comfortable after a while. It's funny after spending 8 or 9 hours in airports the past 24 hours, being one of those laptop toting, neck tie dressing cronies flooding the gates every hour that this is that view that greets me after such drudgery. 

2 events of interest come to mind out of this so called business trip.

While being a fine patron of the disgustingly overpriced Moes restaurant (sorry Simpsons fans, I don't think they even considered such an idea) in the Cincinnati airport, the bartender enlightened me to a quick comment of the different people he saw in and out every day.

"It's almost disgusting how this job has given me such good judge of character. That girl at the door...I thought that cute girl should sit over here at the bar, but as soon as I saw her face...No way. She's mental. I can tell in the first 3 seconds."

I chuckled, shrugging the comment off not showing much interest in "deep conversation". He was still a good bartender and saw me on my way well. I just can't help wishing though, that I had asked "What did you think when you saw me?" I didn't want to prove anyone wrong, I just wanted to know if he was right. I would have given him 20 bucks if he was. 

2nd event of interest.

As I waited with my coworker for her flight to leave 2 hours before mine would, I saw an interesting person walk by gate A2. I would have been damned, was that my freshman year roommate's older brother's good friend? I dismissed the chance, seeing there was something distinctly different. 

After my enlightening experience at Moes (as well as a tall Kentucky Ale), I wondered over to the smoking lounge. I was bored and I am human after all. When I walked in, I saw the previously mentioned person again. He looked like he was fighting off sleep, so I just sat, sucked down my Camel Light. Soon I got up to leave and glanced over again to see he was looking at me. Our eyes met, some recognition occurred and I moved his direction. 

I walked up to him and he said, 

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Jack?"

"No, I'm his little brother."

I couldn't believe it, he had definitely grown and changed in the past four and a half years. Of all the people, I would never have thought I would see him in the smoking lounge in the Cincinnati airport. His life had taken him to Montana then LA where he studies psychology with the hopes of continuing in clinical psychology. The details of what I said and he said there after are not of much interest. It's difficult to talk with someone you didn't know that well four and a half years ago. 

But it makes me wonder, how it was our paths should cross in such a way. We're landing now and seats and tray tables must be locked and in their upright positions, thusly my writing surface has vanished. I'm going to take some time, the drive home really, to be amazed about this some more, maybe think about it. Maybe I'll just leave it at coincidence. 

Note: I did write this at the specified times at the beginning and am just getting to posting it now. I haven't thought about this much, my mind is still just blown. By the way, if I hadn't approached him in the smoking lounge, we would have still talked as we were seated next to each other on our flight home.