Ramblin' Rovin' Rob

People seem different when they’re at the airport. I’m not quite sure if I can say it’s a good different or a bad different, they’re just… different. Different in a way that makes them eat pizza and drink a glass of wine at 10:00AM. Different enough to fall asleep in public and not have any cares about people looking on. Different enough to yell right through complete strangers’ ears to get the attention of their children running amok around baggage claim. Yes, the airport, more than any other public space, changes people’s behavior to be different from the norm. I think that the strange behavior of people at the airport can be attributed to the liminal nature of the airport. Business women drinking champagne at 9:45AM and construction workers eating burgers in the next restaurant over both find themselves outside of their day to day routine. This departure from their norms accompanied with the stress of being on time for a flight seems to create some sort of confusion in which

I take my first step out of my house and suddenly I’m brought back to my infancy. I see my father waiting for me, arms outstretched, as I waddle toward him taking the very first steps of my life. The vision fades and I lock my front door and venture off my doorstep and onto the sidewalk. In the 21 years that I have been walking, I have become somewhat of an aficionado at putting one foot in front of the other. I do exactly this as I continue down my street. Cars whizz past me as I approach Hardy and Rio Salado. Usually, I’m on my bike and can keep pace with the strangers who have chosen to forego their bipedalism in favor of more rapid transportation. But today I trudge along as a mere pedestrian, the lowest man on the totem pole of transportation. I give the cross walk button one hard push and then a few more for good measure. Cars continue to be flung down the street in the chaos that is five o’clock rush hour. The light turns yellow and then red and I make all