Lost Highway

Right now I should be touching down in South Texas, craning my neck out the airplane porthole window trying to see a crested caracara (or some other fantastic SoTex bird). Instead I am sitting in the Columbus, Ohio airport because some distracted commuters crashed their minivans on I-70 westbound this morning, causing an epic traffic jam, which in turn caused me to miss my 9:05 am flight. A kind and helpful ticketing agent for Continental Airlines rebooked me on a later flight, but I am not enthusiastic about spending the next few hours in pre-flight limbo, huffing jet exhaust and being forced to listen to the incredibly unimportant cellphone calls of my fellow travelers.

What did we do before we could call our friends and family members at any given second to say "Yep, just parked the car. Think I might go get a coffee now. Okay. Talk to you later!"? This is surpassed only by the busy executive barking into a cellphone "NO! NO! I said buy LOW, sell HIGH! I've got a MILLION bucks riding on this deal!"

Do I sound bitter? It's because I'm still at the Columbus airport and not in Texas looking at a caracara right now.