My flight back to Atlanta had cleared 10,000 feet. Which meant that I could connect to the internet. As a last step to getting connected, the system always gives a “captcha” – basically, you see what is written and then write it down. This is to make sure that it is indeed a human being trying to get connected (as opposed to bots, automated programs etc).

This morning, this is what the system showed me and asked me to type out the code I saw. What code? After memory, is eyesight the next thing to go with age? Or is this a trick question? 🙂

I also have another question – if somebody has difficulty reading the code, why do they think they can read the link “Visually Impaired?” at all?

I had barely walked into the Cleveland airport when, true to its form, Delta let me know that my flight to Detroit had been delayed. Flight delays come with the territory of being a road warrior. I did, for a moment though, worry about my connecting flight to Milwaukee but realized that there was precious little I could do at that moment to help myself.

So I walked thru security and started taking the airport in. Partly to empty my mind – I need to make a couple of decisions – and partly just to check out the airport, I kept strolling desultorily from gate to gate in my terminal (B). Eventually, I ran out of gates – so I went to Terminal A. After seeing all the distinctly Cleveland-y things, I spotted something I had seen elsewhere – a Starbucks!!

Standing in the rather long queue for a cup of coffee that I pay twice the price just because they put a French sounding name to it, I had a brainwave. You see, this morning, when the valet pulled up my car, I realized that after I tipped him, I was left with only twenty dollar bills. I needed to break a twenty for similar situations the rest of my trip. Decided to pay for the coffee with cash instead of my iPhone app.

I get coffee and I get change!! I was rather pleased with my increasing ingenuity as I age – admittedly ungracefully, as every family member of mine would helpingly point out. Transaction having been done thusly, I kept walking for some more time. Eventually my plane showed up. (They usually do). And I walked in.

As I settled down in my chair, a quarter slipped out of my pocket and noisily landed on the floor. As I picked it up, I had a couple of flashbacks and that is when I froze – Where is my coffee?? WHERE IS MY COFFEE?? There was no point searching my pockets or my bag. Even if it were possible to fit a cup of coffee there, it would still be highly undesirable. Even I knew that!

It dawned upon me – regrettably, I might add – that I was so enthralled in having managed to get some change, I simply walked away from the Starbucks after paying without bothering to pick up my coffee. I am sure with a smirk on my face too!

God! I am getting forgetful as I get old. One thing though – I am not sure what all this complaining of getting old is all about. I am thoroughly enjoying it! At what other age did I ever do something stupid and then agree with the world – “Rajib, you are an idiot!” … and then completely laugh it away?

Settled for a cup of what could best be described as “Delta’s apology to coffee”. I did not need any change though. It was free!!

This is in Atlanta airport. Note the board that shows the area for Gate 52/57. Behind the board, you can see the gate clearly marked Gate 52. If you notice carefully, on the left you can see Gate 50 and on the right you can see Gate 55. So, where is Gate 57?

As you can see, the gates were crowded – else, I was going to walk up to the gate agent and ask what the deal was all about.

I even wondered if the same gate carries two numbers. But why would anybody want to do that???

First time experience in over twenty years of flying… Preparations going on to receive a fallen soldier (in the hearse on the left) with full honors on the Tarmac.

There was something about the whole situation. Many fliers stopped and watched in silence… some saluted in respect before walking off to their own flights…

… when you are meeting more interesting people and creating more intersections than you are having time to write them down!! My bad, I did not get a chance to write this up…

Last week, I was in Portland for work. I took that opportunity to meet a very old runner friend – and by that I do not mean she is old – just that we have not run together for a long time. We used to run together in Atlanta almost ten years back. She moved to Salt Lake City and then to Portland.

I had seen from her FB friends that her parents had moved in with her and I asked her if all of us could go out for dinner together. She was – at that moment, at least – delighted by the idea. She then prepped me heavily – I was not to bring up the topic of when was she going to get married and settle down (she is unhitched still and they are Indian parents – you do the math) and I was not to talk about why Portland has a very rainy weather (her parents apparently would rather be in San Francisco where her brother is) and so on…

You know why I was grinning from ear to ear in the picture. Because I totally threw Reno (I forgot to mention her name – Ranjit alias Reno) under the bus in front of her parents. Apparently asking very seriously, “So, what are you thinking of around getting married?”, was all I needed to get her parents to instantaneously like me. And getting threats of bodily harm from Reno muttering under her breath.

The rest of the evening was awesome (from my perspective). Whenever I did not have anything else to say, I would go back to her finding a husband and her parents would jump in with total rejuvenation. Now, apparently, I am working on a June 30 deadline to find her a husband 🙂

In between those friendly ribbings though I got to know of Uncle’s very modest beginnings. Left India in 1967 and joined as a daily labor in Chicago. Carried on throughout his life as a blue collar worker. I was amazed at some of the sacrifices he and Auntie made throughout their lives to raise two great kids. HE talked about how some of his close friends came at the same time and rose thru the ranks of management but he stuck to the job he loved – although, financially, it was probably not the best choice. I was absolutely touched by his story and dedication to work.

It was almost a continuation of my spree of meeting parents in India a few weeks back. Of course, it is always great to see Reno. Although I am not sure she will be agreeing to see me next time, unless I drag in a potential suitor along with me 🙂

The plane started rolling off the starting point on the runway. As it gathered momentum and pulled the wheels up, rapidly we could see River Columbia emerge to our left. A few seconds later, as we continued to gain height, something seemed to trigger some old memories as I looked down from the plane. Quickly took a few pictures of the sight and then waited to get Wifi access in the plane (after 10,000 feet).

A few minutes of research on my blog and sure enough – I figured out why the scenery looked familiar.

Notice the right bottom end – near the plane’s window edge, you can see the road. But between the road and the the river, if you carefully notice, there is a trail that goes along the river (this is the Oregon side; the other side is Washington).

Way back on Oct 20, last year, I had driven up to a trail head and started running. Eventually, I ran along the exact spot that you see in this picture. See the inset – and you can see the same bridge. I remember stopping multiple times to watch the planes fly very low as it approached the runway.

Today, I was on the other end!!

Text message exchange with Sharmila this Monday… It was admittedly a little hectic…

Apparently seeing is believing no more. This is in Dayton, OH. Note that the board helpfully points out that the flight to Detroit has been delayed from 10.21 am to 10.27 am. Funny part? It is 11:44 am now (see at he bottom of the board).

Even funnier? We are boarding now thru that gate. We are headed to Minneapolis!! The display as well as the sign above the door says “Detroit”!! I asked the gate agent as I boarded – “it says Detroit”. She nonchalantly said “I know” as she flagged me in to the plane.

This was one of those classic moments when, upon greeted by a ferocious looking dog relentlessly barking at me as I stood frozen at the gate of my friend’s house in Durgapur wondering what to do, my friend’s dad came out and reassured me the dog was harmless. In fact, his admonishing words were “Have you not heard that barking dogs seldom bite?”. I believe I had shot back with a “I have. Question is – has the dog heard it”?

I walked into the plane wondering “Does the pilot know?”