Sitting at the airport

Oooh, isn't this exciting?  All the glamour of air travel, sucked out by fast food restaurants, the overwhelming smell of popcorn wafting through the concourse, and the very unsexy striptease we've all just been through in order to procede to the gate.

Remember when folks used to dress up to travel?  When women would wear hats, and gloves, and specially made travel suits, and all the guys looked like gangsters in fedoras and suits?  Ok, me neither, but I -wish- people still treated travel like it was something special, and not just a airbourne bus.

And people, people, people!  Here's a clue that your suitcase is too heavy and will be hit with an overweight fine - you can't lift it.  I can't tell you the number of people in the check in line I saw struggling with gi-normous suitcases.  I have no pity for these people.  If you can't manuever your baggage by yourself, don't expect me to help you lift it to be weighed, or handed over to the baggage clerk at the security checkpoint.  And I can't believe check-in clerks even give people the opportunity to repack their bags, shuffling items from one bulging suitcase to another, trying to get them under the weight limit.  Please, just charge them, and let's move this line along.  Maybe if they collected all the overweight baggage fees the airlines were due, they could charge less for airfare.  Wouldn't that be nice?

Ok, rant over.  I've got about an hour before they start boarding, and I think I'm going to dive into a book.  More later.