People often ask me how I spend my time in Vegas. If I'm not at the job I love, or laying on my couch in my pajamas, or entertaining guests, this is where I can be found more often than not:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5a-mBQbGtU
I love the airport. It's one of my absolute favorite places in the whole world. Whenever I'm stressed, or sad, or lonesome, or confused about life, I hop in the car and head over to the parking lot on Sunset alongside the East/West runways of McCarran International Airport and just watch the planes take off and land. Since I'm not tall enough to be a flight attendant (sad, but true), I settle for watching from a distance.
Hearing the roar of the engines, smelling the smoke of the tires, and feeling the ground vibrating beneath me takes me to a somewhat unexpected place of tranquility. I love to daydream about the people aboard and wonder if they're coming or going, if they're filled with the excitement of the start of a vacation or the sadness of one ending. I wonder if they're going somewhere cold; to play in the snow and dress in fashionable scarves, or if they're headed to a Caribbean Isle to lay on the beach.
There's something romantic about the simplicity and complexity of it all. Someone is always coming or going. Where are they going? Who are they leaving behind? Will someone they love greet them with open arms at their destination? Or are they going some place where they're just a stranger? I like to just sit in my car with the windows rolled down and think about all of the plane rides I've been on. The people I've met, the views I've seen from the sky, the places I've been, the places I hope to go.
It may not seem as exciting as dancing and drinking all night, or winning big bucks at the roulette table, but it's my happy place. I've come here bearing just about every emotion. I've cried a lot of tears, mended a few broken hearts, listened to a lot of music, said a lot of prayers, and even found a few answers between the constant stimulation of planes coming and going. After all, isn't that where we all are; somewhere between takeoff and landing?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5a-mBQbGtU
I love the airport. It's one of my absolute favorite places in the whole world. Whenever I'm stressed, or sad, or lonesome, or confused about life, I hop in the car and head over to the parking lot on Sunset alongside the East/West runways of McCarran International Airport and just watch the planes take off and land. Since I'm not tall enough to be a flight attendant (sad, but true), I settle for watching from a distance.
Hearing the roar of the engines, smelling the smoke of the tires, and feeling the ground vibrating beneath me takes me to a somewhat unexpected place of tranquility. I love to daydream about the people aboard and wonder if they're coming or going, if they're filled with the excitement of the start of a vacation or the sadness of one ending. I wonder if they're going somewhere cold; to play in the snow and dress in fashionable scarves, or if they're headed to a Caribbean Isle to lay on the beach.
There's something romantic about the simplicity and complexity of it all. Someone is always coming or going. Where are they going? Who are they leaving behind? Will someone they love greet them with open arms at their destination? Or are they going some place where they're just a stranger? I like to just sit in my car with the windows rolled down and think about all of the plane rides I've been on. The people I've met, the views I've seen from the sky, the places I've been, the places I hope to go.
It may not seem as exciting as dancing and drinking all night, or winning big bucks at the roulette table, but it's my happy place. I've come here bearing just about every emotion. I've cried a lot of tears, mended a few broken hearts, listened to a lot of music, said a lot of prayers, and even found a few answers between the constant stimulation of planes coming and going. After all, isn't that where we all are; somewhere between takeoff and landing?
1 comment:
Great analogy!
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