Date: Wednesday, March 16, 2016
Time: 10:13 a.m. (you’re sick of me, right?)
Place: Directly under the Big Blue Board at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport.
Of all the many, many things on my list of reasons why I hate flying (and can I stress one more time, many, many things), one of the top five is the temperament of everyone around you. No matter what line you get in – TSA, check-in, a coffee, the bathroom, boarding, a ticket onto the tilt-a-whirl – everyone is always so. damn. pushy. It’s like, chill dudes. An extra 30 seconds to put my belt back on won’t be the difference between if you can or cannot roll your massive rotund body down to the gate you need in time for your flight.
While Michelle Obama was getting ready to address a room filled with music “enthusiasts” and “insiders” (whatever those things even mean anymore), I was pushing toothpaste out of a packet and onto a toothbrush in a last-ditch effort to make sure my mouth feels clean. Also: Can anyone, at any point, explain to me exactly why the Obamas were this year’s keynote speakers? Like, honestly. What do you expect her to say? “I really like the new Pastel Ghost record … go music!”?
I’m a bit (read: a lot) worried about getting back north. My flight is supposed to touch down around 4 p.m. at Reagan and with all this Metro nonsense … oh, man, this is going to suck. Over/under on what time I get home? 11 p.m.? 10:30? I can see it now: Me at a standstill on the beltway, figuring out ways to file SXSW diary entries that nobody will read while quote-driving-unquote.
I think I just heard someone fart.