Travel and Entertainment

You know, when I think about it, I don't actually mind traveling all that much. Truth be told, I mostly enjoy it. I know it's fashionable to kvetch madly about everything from the time you leave the house until your flight lands, then huff and sigh as if you just disembarked from the Santa Maria, but for some reason, almost nothing about traveling bugs me too much. It's as if, knowing that there is absolutely nothing I can do about anything, I enter a deeply calm and zenlike state. Traffic doesn't bother me, security lines don't bother me, delays don't bother me. It's all out of my hands, and therefore not worth being upset about.

(Turbulence is another story, since at the first bump on takeoff or landing I'm envisioning my death in a fireball, complete with Pei-ze Chang standing in front of a flaming Queens neighborhood with his microphone.)

What do I like so much about it, you ask? Here, a list of just a few:

* being completely unreachable for a time while airborne.

* cruising the airport shops to see which city has the tackiest souvenirs. LA wins, hands down. I was going to buy a baby tee with a bedazzled reproduction of the Hollywood sign, but it sure wasn't fifty bucks worth of irony.

* going into the airport bookstore and moving Glenn Beck books around. This is an entertaining way to spend a quarter of an hour. Also, placing handwritten notes inside "Going Rogue" that say things like, "You have wasted your money," and "Good for one free Big Mac combo meal if redeemed by 10pm."

* finding the one or two non-chain stores in the airport to see what they are calling "local art." ORD's United terminal has a tiny store next to gate C6 called, appallingly, "Hoy Polloy" with bad Blue Dog imitations and crappy new age books that must have been culled from some Haight Ashbury remainder bin. The upside is that directly across the hall is a Vosges store. Yummmmm!

* just walking through O'Hare, where I look like one of the skinny people.

* sitting in an empty gate area where it's quiet and I can read a magazine and judge people in peace. (You know, straight American men, I will tell you honestly, y'all dress like shit. How many times do I have to tell you? NO PLEATED PANTS! And please, go to Brooks Brothers and have one of the salesmen show you how to buy a shirt that fits. Repeat after me: if it looks like a blouse, you look like a schlub. Cuffs should be at your wristbone, not resting on the back of your hands. Dudes, you just don't look good.)

* Mr and Mrs T! For some reason I only drink it on the plane. Hint: if you aren't worried about a sodium-induced DVT, United gives you the whole can, not like those cheap bastards over at American.

* the delusion that anything you eat inside an airport terminal has no calories. Bring on the Sbarro's! And wash it down with a venti vanilla bean frappacino with whipped cream!

* buying a magazine I normally wouldn't buy, like Outdoor Life, Men's Journal, or Juggs. KIDDING!

All right, time to wrap up with a teeny tiny little hockey gripe. WHAT THE EFF ARE THE PENGUINS DOING??? Okay, so they've already clinched a playoff berth, but the shit I saw tonight was slow, disorganized and uninspired. I think they want to play golf in May. Sarge is lost without Geno and Dupuis is going to have to dial up his game if he wants to stay on the first line with Sid. Very frustrating loss against Washington. Caps 6- Pens 3. Grrrrrrr.