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Thursday, August 10, 2006

Liquid in the air

As I was sitting in traffic today on the notorious 405, I was thinking about liquid and flying.

I was listening to NPR and they were talking about the terrorist threat foiled today by authorities in Great Britain. For those of you who get the news from my blog, I'm sorry. But, just to fill you in, it appears some folks were planning to blow up Transatlantic planes bound for the U.S. with liquid explosives carried-on in (as my late Gran would say), hand luggage.

Gran luggage aside: Gran had this great 70s era set of hard-sided blue Samsonite luggage on which she had placed huge "M"s in yellow electrical tape. Gran did not believe in the "many bags look alike" principle. I loved those bags. They'd come banging down the carousel, their yellow M's shouting their affiliation. Her make-up case had a much smaller M on its top. Same tape. More delicately applied. I loved the way it smelled, that case. Like roses and powder.

I was thinking about all the liquid in the world that was being thrown away in the name of safety. And let's all admit it's about appearances, shall we?

Anyway, I love my ablutions. It's one way I am my mother's daughter. There are other ways. I don't talk about those. The idea of throwing away products of a liquid nature from L'Occitane or Philosophy or (horror!) Origins made me shudder right there on the freeway. Good thing we weren't moving. Why weren't we moving? Oh, because they were searching people's cars at LAX. For liquid.

I glamorize travel of a certain type like many people do. I like trains. I rode the last regional passenger train (pre-Amtrak) when I was a child. It wasn't like in the old movies, but it did have its appeal. The Southern Crescent. Doesn't it make you want to put on a Myrna Loy hat and take Asta cross-country? The Southern Crescent. New Orleans to Washington, D.C. Every day.

Buses, on the other hand, did not appeal. Greasy. That's enough.

Since I'm from Atlanta, I have a certain loyalty to the classic Atlanta companies, Coca-Cola and Delta Airlines. I know both have problematic things about them (tell me Fortune 500 companies that don't). In case you're wondering, Coke is #89 and Delta #134 on the 2006 list and both lag behind Atlanta johnny-come-latelies Home Depot (#14) and UPS (#44). BellSouth, that bouncing baby bell, beats Delta too at #120.

Coca-Cola aside: I just bought a Fresca ball cap. My life may be complete. I heart Fresca. And now my head can tell everyone without me saying a thing.

Anyway, Delta, who love to fly and it shows, will be ready when I am. I miss the days of real Delta, but current Delta, for all its problems, is still a fine airline. Until today, you could have your hand lotion with you while winging your way to Cincinnati, Salt Lake, or Atlanta. Most flight attendants still have that accent that makes mine come rushing back forward and they'll serve you a six-pack of Lance crackers after you've consumed your ENJOY! pack. Lance crackers and Fresca. Sigh.

To summarize on this day of Red terror alerts...

I am in favor of:

Fresca
Lance Crackers
Electrical tape M's
Delta
Ablutions
The Southern Crescent
Myrna Loy

I am NOT in favor of:
George W. Bush
Greasy buses
Thrown away ablutions
Liquid explosives
The TSA
Terrorism
Modern travel
The 405

So there.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Dearest Sporks
I fear I agree with your Gran, that hand luggage is the correct term, well it is here in GB!

Unknown said...

Sly calls them "ablutions" too -- is that a Southern thing?

bryduck said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Teresa said...

I L-O-V-E this entry, and not just because I'm your partner and L-O-V-E you. I've commented on all your entries—OK, almost all, and when I don't comment on one, boy, do I hear about it—and I think this is my favorite so far. Why? You want to know why? Because it's funny and heartfelt and wistful, three of my very favorite human qualities. You rock, girlfriend.

alice, uptown said...

I've always wanted to be Myrna Loy in my travels, but these days, I would settle for being Asta and be damn glad about it. That is, assuming Asta's food and water would be permitted to accompany the dog in its travels.