Helen got me thinking today. She had mentioned that she's a people watcher. I am sooo a people watcher. When it was my senior year in high school my best friend and I would ditch school alot. Our favorite place was Mission Beach but on the days it was too cold to go there, we would go to the airport and people watch. It enthralled me.
I remember we used to go the local 7-11 store buy clove cigarettes and jam to Wham! or Duran Duran and drive to the airport. To me it was a guilty pleasure sort of fun. People you normally wouldn’t look twice at are the objects of my fascination. Everyone had a story. Sad stories, happy hello stories, heartbreaking good bye stories.
Since we had a Naval & Marine Base by us there were a lot of soldiers leaving for duty, going who knows where. I remember seeing couples hugging each other so tight it brought tears to my eyes. Kids running up and down the isles of chairs with excitement in their eyes dreaming of the vacation they’re about to venture on. And I was wishing it was me. I remember seeing a mother and father saying goodbye to their daughter going off to college– I assume.
That’s the thing about airports. You can almost guess who they were, why they were and where they’re going. It was like a game to me.
Airports have always been a sort of downer for me. No matter how happy you are when you arrive, you have to leave. It seems a soon as I say hello – I’m saying good bye even faster. There are always lots of tears shed for me. I wonder if anyone has figured out what my story is. Do they know I only see my family once a year? Do they know that when I said good bye to my dad it would be the last time I would see him? Will they know how excited I am when I arrive? That my heart beats so fast with nervousness, anticipation and exhilaration?
Do you know my story?
Posted by Tiffani at November 11, 2004 03:09 PM | TrackBackLike you have stated everyone has a story and the older you get the more story you have and the more stories you hear. The funny thing about life is how different we are and also how similiar we are. We all have problems that can not be solved, we have all lost something we loved and we will all wonder why we are here. There is line between knowing someones story and feelings someones story. A walk through the local Wal-mart or what ever store or mall you frequent will give you a lifetime of stories by just looking at the faces and wondering who that person really is.
Posted by: James Old Guy at November 12, 2004 01:58 PMWow. And over at my blog I'm posting about poop. I'm like totally outclassed here.
Posted by: Jim at November 12, 2004 02:21 PMI'm a deep thinker I am...
I was fine with the pooping until I got the visual. That picture is embedded in my brain now. Thanks...thanks alot.
Oh, don't thank me. It's part of the regular service plan. ;-)
Posted by: Jim at November 16, 2004 08:08 AMOne of my favorite songs is by Nanci Griffith--I think of it often in airports. It's called "The Wing & the Wheel":
It starts:
The wing and the wheel... they carry things away
whether it's me that does the leavin' or the love that flies away
And it ends:
There's a pale sky in the east... all the stars are in the west
Oh, here's to all the dreamers... may our open hearts find rest
The wing and the wheel are gonna carry us along
And we'll have memories for company... long after the songs are gone
acsnoa uofrhx.
Posted by: Gwenhoivar at December 29, 2004 05:04 PM