flying

sy flies down for the weekend

Fly

June 17, 2014

“Flight attendants, take your seats.” The pilot – good one – eases the plane onto the runway, cutting the corner of the taxiway, he knows just when the call is going to come. Never stops rolling. Punches it. Thrust. Heads back in seats, Gs, whitecaps on the Bay zipping by. Faster, faster, acceleration, exhilarating, the […]

September 16, 2013

Wake up in Portland. Wake up to grey September, the airborne ocean. Like the Coast, only 90 miles inland. No bike to ride. Zipcar to the café, to the marché. Rental car to Port Orchard via Olympia, Tacoma, Narrows Bridge. Port Orchard in late summer. Idyllic breeze on the back lawn. Boil an octopus Gallician-style, […]

September 15, 2013

Something about the commuter terminal I adore. It’s old-school flying. ‘Through the door sir, second airplane on your left’. Walking across the tarmac. Takes a measure of responsibility you don’t usually have at the airport. You could, in theory, get lost out there. Look left and look right, make sure you’re not about to get […]

January 28, 2008

I told my friend today, I’m not sure what I’m more upset about : that time’s going so fast, or that I’m still surprised by time going so fast. i’m canning our accountant first of the quarter he no longer knows where a half-hour goes just throws them away with his uncanny ledgering for the […]

March 31, 2003

It begins in Amsterdam dot nl with a long terminal march preamble, Dutch Rail efficiently transporting our bodies and belongings from truly international schiphol.nl to the Hotel American via underground rail station, this pleasant flatland ride through ordered Bauhaus habitation-rich eurosuburbia to the contrived neo-renaissance Centraal Station, via some slightly mad hands in pocket push […]