Vancouver Trip
Plane Trip and Arrival

Wednesday night and the red glare of my clock is bleeding into my eyes: 1:45. In 3 hours I have to get up. Its hard to be anything but excited about the prospect of only having 3 hours of sleep because I am flying out to see Chapter. I close my eyes, putting a stop to the bleeding, and drift into a very light sleep.

4:45 and awakened by the annoying tonal blips of my alarm clock. The drive to the airport, graciously given by Superman (who got no more sleep than I) passes in the early morning haze of the man who’s still in bed in every way possible; I need caffeine or sugar. When I awake I have checked in, Superman is presumably on his way back to bed, and somehow a half eaten Tim Horton’s donut is in my hand. The haze lifts and I head to my gate, only to be accosted by one of the most tempting things you can put in my path. A book store.

Next thing I know the plane is taking off. I have been so engrossed in this book, William Gibson’s “Pattern Recognition”, which I bought at the bookstore, that I haven’t noticed my surroundings as someone wheeled me onto the plane. (Well, ok, I read as I walked on the plane, which may have been rude to the airplane peoples now that I consider it).

“Far more creativity, today, goes into the marketing of products than into the products themselves, athletic shoes or feature films.” One of the many lines that catches my eye, being insightful, as I blur through this incredibly interesting and attention-holding book. It’s true, but my question is, why do we let it happen that way? Shouldn’t we, as the supposedly all-powerful consumer value the product more than the advertisement? Of course, the answer hits me almost as fast as the question. We have apathetically accepted, and actively participate in, a system that encourages that we be deceived and that the money goes to the entertainment, as well as the advertisement, before the needs. It is also a system in which, regardless of what ‘they’ want you to think, we don’t really have that much power at all. Back to the book.

I booked this flight using Air Miles, which means that I have an hour layover in Calgary (yeah, figure that one out). Oh, well, more time for reading. Or so I thought. Except that something, I think it is the intercom system, is busted. It emits tonal blips, very similar to my alarm clock except with varying pitch, at intervals just random enough to be consistently annoying. I think it is the intercom system because there seems to be no escaping it within the terminal. Still, the book is engaging enough that I can ignore it most of the time.

I finally board the flight from Calgary to Abbotsford, and, being a longer flight, get served cookies and a drink. I always drink Clamato Juice on airplanes, with no ice. Something about drinking it on an airplane makes it taste better; as if the juice knows it is way up in the air, and the fear it has of heights increases the unique taste. Or maybe its because airplanes are dry and cramped, so everything liquid tastes better (actually, did you know that when your in the air you taste buds are less sensitive, which partially explains the bad rep of airplane food). Either way, its good. I then doze off, and dream of an alarm clock which is broken, and so it only discharges its annoying tonal blips randomly, and no matter how hard I try I can’t wake up to turn it off.

I wake up to the plane landing, and am overtaken with excitement to see Chapter. It always makes the landing take an excruciatingly long time in the present, and an unnoticeably short time in memory. When I step out of the plane, warm B.C. air hits me, hills and mountains fill the view, and I, surrounded by nature’s beauty and man’s innovation, rush inside to the beautiful and creative woman God created for me to spend the rest of my life with.

As I walk through the sliding security doors, I see her. The timeless moment of first sight; smiles form, paces pick up, arms reach out. A vision to be cherished. Chapter.

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