I love airports. So much. I have a 4-hour layover in Detroit and I am thoroughly enjoying my people watching. I am sitting at gate A-77 with my headphones in to block out the news going on and on about everything that is going wrong in the world. I feel terrible for the people in Japan and am interested in the outcome of the Near East riots, but sometimes a girl really just needs some optimism. I know I talk about that all the time, but it’s because it’s so important to me. I completely understand the purpose of news, but I do not understand why it needs to be sensationalized and constantly negative. But anyway, that was not intended to be the focus of this post so I’ll leave that rant for another time.
The Detroit airport is quite a contrast to the drear of the news. It is big and open with sloping roofs and huge windows everywhere. There is even a tunnel leading to Terminal A with fun Manheim Steamroller-esque music coordinated with dancing light panels on both sides. I don’t use the moving walkway in the tunnel because I thoroughly enjoy the show. Today in particularly, I took a nice long walk between flights instead of using the Sky Tram or the moving sidewalks because I a) had time to kill and b) just really like airports.
I think it would be fun to do a photography project at an airport. Of course, there is all sorts of legal stuff that would get in the way of this, but I can still fantasize. I want to spend a whole day walking around and taking pictures of all the different personalities I see. The cute little girl with the hair wrap and huge bow. The businessman asleep at his laptop. The classic tourist with tube socks and safari hat. The sweats-clad college students eager to go home. The life-worn older couples with the weight of the world on their faces. The young couples trying to wrangle unruly children. The career-conscious businesswoman click-clacking down the tiles. The grumpy fat lady with a too-small shirt. The smart phone-enthralled, kind of frumpy late twenties “dude.” The family with teenage girls decked out for the beach and son who “so doesn’t want to be there.” I think you could get a pretty accurate representation of the world (or America at least) with something like that. Plus it would just be so much fun. (Sort of like Tibby’s “suckumentary” in Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. Oh, how I’d like to re-read those books. So good.). There is an escalator in the Detroit airport that easily ascends what would be 2.5 stories. It was there, coming up out of the musical tunnel, that all of this personality interest hit me. Everyone was frozen, evenly spaced on the long escalators which were peacefully escorting them to their destinations. Some people were scowling, others were smiling, and others looked pensive. Everyone was going somewhere. It’s fun to make up stories about their potential travels. It also shows just how many people are in the world and different everyone is. I find it fascinating.
Another thing about this airport: the birds. I am convinced that movies like A Bug’s Life and Toy Story are much more real than anyone realizes. And it is no difference with birds. I see two of them flying side-by-side along the contours of the roof then landing simultaneously on a window sill. Birds simply cannot be as stupid as “bird-brain” implies. Maybe they were having a race? Maybe its two teenage “lovebirds” on a romantic morning stroll? It’s entertaining to imagine.
All these thoughts remind me of The Terminal. If you haven’t seen that movie, it’s a must. You’ll never think of the airport the same way.
One thing I have noticed is that there are not many older folks in airports. Does that mean they are too frail or too afraid to travel? Or does it mean they’ve been everywhere they need go and are leaving the exploring to the next generation? Does it prove that home is really the best place to be?
Seeing as I am currently in the airport waiting to go home, I just might have to agree with them on that one. Home is the best place in the whole world.
