September 20, 2008
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People and Crazy People
You either love or hate airports, which is largely dependent upon whether or not you love or hate people, because there are such people at airports and in airplanes! There are, of course, those people separated by that blue curtain of elite luxury who, though I sort of despise them, are quite enviable (some day first class...some day). But they too are people, and even as I sit in coach slightly jealous in between two other people (the man to my right clad in ripped jeans, affording an interesting view of his left knee, and the other man to my left in neat gray slacks) I smile. I love people.
Throughout my five hour excursion from North Carolina to Atlanta, and from Atlanta to Philadelphia I saw and heard various people. Like the loud, and apparently witty man on his cell phone retorting back and forth sarcastically with his unseen conversational partner. And the comedic and friendly gay flight attendant with the pretty gray eyes. And the man from Manchester, England who desperately needed a smoke and who apparently "had one of those faces" which resulted in numerous security stops.
And soon I got so caught up in looking and noticing people, so overwhelmed (in a good way) by it all that, once on the plane and busy reading my Travel and Leisure magazine (I felt a sort of irony or cliche-ness to pulling out a travel magazine, which I subscribe to, while on a plane but that didn't stop me), that I started humming Chrisette Michelle's "Best of Me" song quietly to myself (partly because it played on every flight I was on that day, and partly because this was the best of me, amongst people) amid the din of loud airplane engines. I began to tap my foot and even, at some points (though I can't honestly say I know any more words from the song other than "the best of me") mouthing the words and rocking slightly from side to side.
It is becuase of this odd behavior that I think I understand a little better the nature of those termed "crazy". They too, probably, were overwhelmed by the nature of being human, or being a person amidst all these other people. And soon they too started tapping their feet and humming a song, and eventually, because they weren't too coward to do it, ventured to talk to themselves outloud in public, gesticulating occasionally to punctuate a sentence here and there. Maybe they are the only people really true to themselves, and to the nature of being people.
Comments (5)
interesting... sometimes we just need to stop and think that people do things for different reasons... I like this blog... it's a good read...
D
have I ever commented on the way you write?I think you have a beautiful style, even what you write about the most simple things.Its the reason I read your blog.
that is a hot profile picture by the way.
There's something liberating about being in a crowd of strangers, isn't there?
@dadj_21 - :) Thanks for visiting.
@preetylenses - Aww thank you very much! This is really just the constant commentary in my head. It's often fun just to get it on paper (so to speak). Thanks
@MlleRobillard - There definitely is. I think that's why I liked living in a city so much. So much bustle. So much to see.
This is sort of like my Michael Jackson question. Do you ever think that maybe he is the sane one and the rest of us are nuts?
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