Charlotte's Web
So Charlotte reminds me of Fight Club for two reasons. One, it is one of (the?) America's "financial capital(s)."Two, I hope to God something subversive is happening in Charlotte's basements because, if not, the blandness would act like a black hole and suck the life out of all of existing matter within a 100 mile radius.
Okay, maybe that was a bit harsh.
The only thing I have seen in Charlotte thus far, besides the convention center and my hotel, is a handful of restaurants and financial buildings. Wachovia and Bank of America (I think) are housed here. They take up what appears the only skyscrapers in the city and they are all connected by tubes.
Yes, I said tubes.
But it's not a bad town. It's extremely clean, I feel quite safe walking around by myself with a laptop and people seem friendly enough. I actually even saw pedestrians with a right-of-way stop in the middle of a crosswalk to allow a car to turn right. I can't quite say I have EVER seen that.
I tried to call Maddy to tell her goodnight. Apparently, when Michael told her "Mommy was on the phone" she yelled "No!" at the phone and backed away. I feel loved.
I got the Tarmac Treatment today. For some reason, they decided to shut down the runway my plane was supposed to depart from. We sat on the tarmac for 45 minutes and watched planes lift off all around us.
I had a window seat so I spent most of the time alternately watching other planes depart, worrying about showing up to my lunch meeting on time and snoozing. I tend to chose window seats so I can lean my head against something and because it reduces my change of potential conversation by 50%. If you sit in the middle, you may have two people try to talk to you. If you sit on the end, you could have up to 3-4 people trying to talk to you (think aisle people).
This time, I ended up regretting it. My seatmate was talking to the gentleman next to him-a young, handsome fellow who was returning to North Carolina from a 15 month stint in Iraq. He was extremely talkative, but pleasant. He was obviously still getting used to being back in the States-he had been traveling for two days and was still unused to seeing things like real commercials and buying his own food for the first time in over a year. He was 20 years old and was going home to tell the wife and kids of one of his friends that her husband wasn't coming home.
I tend to be proud of the things I accomplished by the time I was 20-I had proved myself in school while working several jobs, I had convinced Michael to try to get a better job, and I was managing living by myself pretty well. But that is nothing compared to what this kid/man had seen and was about to do. So, I was really put in my place.
He was an interesting case study-he was happy to be home but certain-and looking forward to- go back in August. But I got the impression that he didn't agree with the war-he seemed to think that a lot was being held back from the American people, that the only reason that America has been successful in some provinces was because they gave Iraqis water and he was full of horror stories of how children were being mutilated and tortured. Overall, what really struck me is that he repeatedly said how lucky he was-whenever his seatmate made a comment about how the whole situation sucked, he would repeat that he couldn't complain, that he was lucky because he was alive. Despite everything that he had seen and heard (and was about to do) at his young age, he was still positive.
Me, being the negative person I tend to be, was very put in my place. I'll probably be thinking about him for a long time. I hope you do too.
Okay, maybe that was a bit harsh.
The only thing I have seen in Charlotte thus far, besides the convention center and my hotel, is a handful of restaurants and financial buildings. Wachovia and Bank of America (I think) are housed here. They take up what appears the only skyscrapers in the city and they are all connected by tubes.
Yes, I said tubes.
But it's not a bad town. It's extremely clean, I feel quite safe walking around by myself with a laptop and people seem friendly enough. I actually even saw pedestrians with a right-of-way stop in the middle of a crosswalk to allow a car to turn right. I can't quite say I have EVER seen that.
I tried to call Maddy to tell her goodnight. Apparently, when Michael told her "Mommy was on the phone" she yelled "No!" at the phone and backed away. I feel loved.
I got the Tarmac Treatment today. For some reason, they decided to shut down the runway my plane was supposed to depart from. We sat on the tarmac for 45 minutes and watched planes lift off all around us.
I had a window seat so I spent most of the time alternately watching other planes depart, worrying about showing up to my lunch meeting on time and snoozing. I tend to chose window seats so I can lean my head against something and because it reduces my change of potential conversation by 50%. If you sit in the middle, you may have two people try to talk to you. If you sit on the end, you could have up to 3-4 people trying to talk to you (think aisle people).
This time, I ended up regretting it. My seatmate was talking to the gentleman next to him-a young, handsome fellow who was returning to North Carolina from a 15 month stint in Iraq. He was extremely talkative, but pleasant. He was obviously still getting used to being back in the States-he had been traveling for two days and was still unused to seeing things like real commercials and buying his own food for the first time in over a year. He was 20 years old and was going home to tell the wife and kids of one of his friends that her husband wasn't coming home.
I tend to be proud of the things I accomplished by the time I was 20-I had proved myself in school while working several jobs, I had convinced Michael to try to get a better job, and I was managing living by myself pretty well. But that is nothing compared to what this kid/man had seen and was about to do. So, I was really put in my place.
He was an interesting case study-he was happy to be home but certain-and looking forward to- go back in August. But I got the impression that he didn't agree with the war-he seemed to think that a lot was being held back from the American people, that the only reason that America has been successful in some provinces was because they gave Iraqis water and he was full of horror stories of how children were being mutilated and tortured. Overall, what really struck me is that he repeatedly said how lucky he was-whenever his seatmate made a comment about how the whole situation sucked, he would repeat that he couldn't complain, that he was lucky because he was alive. Despite everything that he had seen and heard (and was about to do) at his young age, he was still positive.
Me, being the negative person I tend to be, was very put in my place. I'll probably be thinking about him for a long time. I hope you do too.
posted by waltzingmathilda @ 9:06 PM
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