Kind Of A Big Deal (Part I)

Kenmore-Seatac-Reykjavik


   After a false start and much foot dragging

 untimely leather-tooling
 unnecessary breakfast cooking
 last minute luggage redistribution
 exaggerated departure urgency
 tying up of loose financial ends
 and an unsuccessful search for a set of false incisors

 Tyler and I departed for Seatac courtesy of a disspirited Dave and a very spacious Cadillac. I tried to fade into the back seat cushions during the farewell-in-transit and thought of nothing but the other cars and freeway exits. Unloaded bags and thanks for the ride, once through automatic sliding doors the airport hum transmitted a sudden euphoria that burst my face into a helpless grin. No line at the baggage desk and only a stalled computer threatened to slow our progress; even that paused us only momentarily and then bags and box were labelled and hoisted and pulled along by the conveying belt. We were well wished and safe journeyed on Icelandair and through security without hassle or grief. An air of optimism, even joviality, radiated from other travellers and TSA officials alike--strange enough on any trip but for this momentous effort a strong omen in deed. Three hours early, just on schedule for a leisurely lunch before the big push. Walking past Korean Air on the way to S12 the flight attendants wore pale seafoam pencil skirts and scarves and chopsticks in their shiny hair. I recalled the Ladies of Ryan Air who also wear skirts but always look dressed in a rush. Icelandair wears a black suit and pillbox hat, and everyone is blonde.
Excellent flight. Expensive food and nothing for free, except the videos in the back of the seat. 3 dollars for headsets; not free after all. We got our money's worth watching, and the Tandoori Chicken was excellent for an airplane. By mid-flight meal's end my enthusiasm had been tempered and I was quieter. We synchronized screens and watched The Fountain. It was so beautiful I cried, right there in my seat. I recognized a cameraderie between Only Revolutions and The Fountain and Our great endeavor. Pairs of adventurers burning with enthusiasm to fend off doom and gloom and death. How can we ever die? We are living forever now. I feel an infinity of lives is at hand like a deck of cards. The boy across the aisle was Icelandic, Icelander, and talked about eating rotten shark. I asked how he liked the carcass and he smiled,
"I could eat it until I was sick."
It was a few minutes before I got the joke. I asked his name and it sounded like too many letters at once. I asked again without hope of understanding, and then he told me about his uncle who lives on the Dragon's Head and loves to eat at KFC. I think hot dogs are the national dish, after rotten shark carcass. He said Icelandic Coke is the best, German syrup with Iceland's water but it costs too much at the airport. We parted ways right off the plane and I waved goodbye to the Unpronouncable Boy.