Pasty Taste Jars Nicely

The average time these days in most Chinese cities out to the “new” airport tends to be one hour.  It never seems to matter if its rush hour or the middle of the night, it will take at least an hour.  I happen to live close to the airport in Beijing, but in the last few years if I think of Jinan, or Xian or Guiyang or Chengdu or Hangzhou or Nanjing or Guangzhou or Shenzhen or Hong Qiao Airport down into Renmin Guangchang it usually takes about an hour.   So I will tip my hat to the city of San Diego and this Gaslamp neighborhood I’ve occupied these last three days in that the ride out the airport is only twelve minutes.  After two short turns it seems we’re nearly out of the city and I can see big Alaskan Air smiling Eskimo coming in close enough to count his eyelashes. I’d been here once before, three years ago, it was all coming back.

The airport is light and breezy.  The ticketing is breezy as well, with merely a driver’s license to flash, which feels welcoming despite whatever else I might think.  A blond ATF agent, who can only be described as having a ‘surfer-dude’ haircut and a determined air about him, has a large springy dog on a leash.  Everyone who passes is sniffed.  I haven’t seen it elsewhere recently and I consider our proximity to the border. A not unattractive young lady approaches the ATF agent and his canine best friend now from behind me in line.  I imagine suddenly a scene where the dog rolls on his back and howls in excitement.  And that if Fido were to do this repeatedly to people how uncomfortable surfer-dude would become because it would appear a joke and increasingly seem as if surfer-dude must have taught that dog to do this on his sly command.

The Peet's Coffee is a long overdue first espresso.  It’s worth savoring.  The banana’s pasty taste jars nicely.  I consider briefly stopping in one of these stores I’m passing and purchasing something that testifies to time spent in San Diego for my children and before the thought can complete itself it seems silly.  I’ve everything still to discover, certainly, but it does feel as if it’s a city in need of a theme.  Sea World competes with the Midway and wholesome sunny weather feels ominous near the border.  It’s a fun, surfing city of sunny sports with real “authentic” Mexican and a naval base.  Ennobling, certainly to be a city of contrasts but I’m grasping for the cogent yarn that defines it.

The airport is light and airy.  Everything feels new and very clean.  I’m early and I take a seat by against the wall.  Every seat has outlets and there appears to be plenty of room remaining as the place fills up. A tall steward, handsome, sharp in his effortless outfit and faded fro.  A bespectacled couple who I can only assume are from China are chatting, quietly at the end of my row.  A young lady in black tights and hooded shawl is hunched over a laptop.  She looks up confirming what I’d assumed by her posture that she was also from China.  A very large fellow with a bushy mustache sits down in the seat immediately behind her.  I imagine the force of his rough descent but she doesn’t seem to notice. 

Dude and Fido have just darted around the wall.  He doesn’t really seem to have his heart in it.  He’s trotting through but it feels more like its’ Fido who is setting the pace.  Fido turns his head towards the people he passes but does nothing more.