Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Maybe
It felt and smelled like Maine this morning when I left for work. Cool, damp, grey. Pine-y. As I drove down I95 the grey burned off overhead but mist still lay heavy in the trees, and fogbanks still obscured the horizon in the direction of the coastline. The sun shining down through all the mist and fog gave the landscape a surreal glow-- somehow bright and dark all at the same time. And just at that moment, Wilco's Either Way began: "Maybe the sun will shine today. And clouds will blow away. Maybe I won't feel so afraid. I will try to understand either way." It was a moment of pure serenity. Followed by the sinking realization that I was nearing work. My challenge for the day-- to hold onto that moment, that serenity. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...
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And I, I awoke to find myself in a Holiday Inn Express, huddle inside a compound containing 10 other hotels on the outskirts of Midway airport in Chicago. The landscape of concrete and asphalt was lit by a pinkish hue of the early morning sunrise. The scent of jet fuel hung delicately in the air. We piled into the taxi, a grime-encrusted minivan, only to be enveloped in the overwhelming grip of vanilla car freshener and James Taylor on the radio. But moods lightened as we reached blazing speeds of 5 mph in the Chicago traffic, passing car shops, nameless donut shops, and signs announcing "Musica and Chicas". To hold onto that moment is to, well, hold onto the existential crises that is 21st century business travel.
Michaela told me she almost spit out a mouthful of beverage at this comment. At that warning, I wisely did not mix drinking and reading.
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