Picking up the mental detritus

I can't take any more of the news, but I can't turn away. And it's strange how much this one hits home. How many hundred thousand dead in southeast Asia? Too large and abstract a number to digest. Katrina happened here, in places that I was desperate to visit. Now it will never be the same. And since I'm in my house enjoying an ice cold Bud and about to take a bath, I don't really have to much to bitch about, now do I? I could go on, but I can't.

I was asked which would be preferable: a night spent here, or a night spent at La Guardia. Not even a contest. I would rather sleep in a dumpster on the tarmac at La Guardia. I might have to worry about flying luggage, hearing loss and Teamsters, but I wouldn't have to worry about exposed and frayed wiring at LGA. I have yet to see spackling chunks ready to give way at LGA. And I'm sure the tarmac would be far more comfortable than the beds at the HoJo Penn Plaza. And unless the chain has really expanded, La Guardia might just be one of the last places in New York without a Duane Reade ("New York's Number One Drugstore...we've got what you neeeeedatDuaneReade!" Bullshit: I don't need terrible service and dingy stores). For that bit of escapism alone, La Guardia wins by a country mile.

I forgot about Manchester (NH) on my list of favorite airports. It's our official home airport, even if it is a three hour drive. Drastically cheaper to fly out of than Portland (see below), easily accessible, clean, new, fresh and home to major carriers inclding United, Northwest and USAir, MHT is a major sleeper. It's worth the drive.

Average: Portland (ME) International Jetport. It's an "INTERNATIONAL JETPORT" because there's maybe one flight to Montreal daily. I practically grew up in this airport, but it's lost a lot of stature. Now it's just...podunk. PWM happens to be the favorite starting point for terrorists, but as a real grown-up airport, it ain't much.

Poor: Logan, Boston. The layout is perplexing, it's dingy and ancient, and your ears are fucked gently with "lite jazz." My last flight out, I was stuck by a hot dog stand with spits of 7-11 dogs rotating with no hope. The smell of hog anus lingered until I was well over Green Bay. Logan? You're no O'Hare.

The work week is almost over, but not soon enough. On to Cooperstown Saturday. Motel: $75.00. Two tanks at $3.00+ per gallon: I'll tell you after I pull my pants up.