I’m sitting in the airport, in Marquette, MI. It’s easily the smallest airport I’ve passed through, and the most exclusive — Only Delta and AA fly commercially through this city. Folks are trickling in. Every non-uniformed person in here will fall into either of two groups: Folks waiting for arrivals, or folks waiting to fly on the same plane I’ll be boarding. Only about four flights are departing from Marquette today. Dad went out on the 11:20am and I’m on the next flight… at 3:50pm. He’s going through Detroit and on to Pennsylvania; I’m going through Minneapolis and on to Oregon. We came to the heart of the country to see my sister. Appropriately.

My sister is wrapping up a summer-long study of Bald Eagles in MN and MI. It’s her third season in this program, and this year she’s the field foreman. The boss. The alpha. And that means she doesn’t have to ask anyone for permission to bring visitors along while she does her work. Dad and I had the privilege this year, and a privilege it was indeed…

More to come after I land in PDX. In the meantime, please enjoy this video of a pair of Bald Eagles in their nest (not taken by me). Note their call — We heard a lot of that this weekend.

I’m actually writing this entry mid flight to Houston. There’s nothing better for reminiscing than being stuck in a seat for three and a half hours. All is calm, all is bright, save a blonde hair-flipping college athlete sitting one row in front of me, with all of her “like” and “drama” and “totally” chatter to her seat mate. On a different day or trip I’d be irritated that she can’t keep her voice below bar level. Today? I’m flying high in all senses, so she’s off the hook. Then again, I’ve only been on the plane for about 30 minutes.

And now a baby just started screaming.

Ah, the holidays!

And these have been eventful and momentous and all of those grand words that people use to describe big deals. Back in July my parents purchased an airplane ticket for me; the purpose for my journey was to help them make some repairs to the house they lived in at the time. Well, they moved away from South Carolina and I found myself with a two week excuse to cram in some serious sister time, along with quality Herzog hangin’ out. And it was worth every moment, let me tell you.

Latice had a birthday, graduated with her MS from Clemson University, and I got to watch her open a Christmas present for the first time in three years. Heck, Jed and I got to watch his parents open gifts, too (I know! We really made this trip count). All of these things I used to take for granted when I lived, schooled, and worked in South Carolina. Having a retail job in Oregon for three years, during which the holidays were off limits for vacations, made me appreciate such milestones more. I call them the “Life Things”. Life is too short to miss out on the “Life Things”.

So we “Life”-d it up.

I learned a few “Things”, too. Or, more accurately, I remembered. For one, Jed and I are more than blessed with amazing friends. The few that we were able to visit with made us feel like we’d only been gone for a day or two. Also, we had it pretty good while living in Clemson. Jed and I worked in the same office, with the added bonus of fun and caring coworkers. We knew someone everywhere we went in downtown Clemson, and a friendly game of pool was only a block away. And the food! Super Taco, China Wok, Mellow Mushroom… Finally, it was great to live so close to family. Sure, being an airplane ride away has its advantages, but there is something to be said for a short jaunt up or over to the ‘rents. Or the ability to cook dinner with little sister.

But I had my time, so now it’s back to Portland and all of the “Life Things” Jed and I share there. To our friends, our little apartment, our favorite coffee house, our walks into downtown—To our lives that are separate and different from the lives of our families. They will intertwine little in the coming years. But when they can, I’ll be there.

I’m sitting in the library, realizing that in my five years here at Clemson I never noticed the ceiling. Did I just never look up? Or was I too busy doing library-ish things?

Back when it was constructed, I’m sure this place was state of the art and considered very beautiful. It’s a huge building, crammed completely full of books and periodicals and other media. At this moment exhausted and stressed students are trickling in to do their last bit of work before the semester ends. It’s finals week. Also known as the week of no sleep, freaking out, and denial.

The last time I was here Alex was alive, many of our friends hadn’t yet given birth to their second child, and I was still working retail. Back then I felt just close enough to student-hood that I couldn’t appreciate this place and its people–I was trying to find a way to differentiate myself, so I took that “I feel so old” tact. In truth, I didn’t feel like I’d come very far at all from being a Clemsonite, and for some reason that was unnerving.

A year after my last visit, I’ve dropped the act. In a lot of ways I was the one in denial of how important and beautiful this place is. New memories have been made, new experiences had, and the passions I felt while a student here have attached themselves to more recent things. So, as I sit comfortably in the library at Clemson University I feel like I see through clear lenses for the first time. And I’m proud of this place.

“His momma done raised him up right,” as they say.

At Backstreets on Friday night, the bartender said “Thanks for comin’ in, Beautiful,” when he handed me my tab. “Beautiful”?! Know how long it’s been since a complete stranger has used a pet name when addressing me? Loooong time. In fact, I gave him a very perplexed look in response because I had no idea what to say back to him.

Thursday, while helping Latice load boxes off of a platform and into her vehicle, a guy rolled down the window of his van and shouted, “Ya’ll are doin’ too much there” and sent his sidekick to our rescue. The boy (I say “boy” because he was not older than 20) arrived just as Latice was taking the last box from me, so there was nothing left for him to do. Still, I thanked him for trying and his response was, “Of course! I only wish I’d gotten here sooner.”

Those are just a couple of examples that illustrate a good ‘ole Southern value: Give special consideration to the ladies. On one hand, it’s seen as sexist and presumptive of women’s inability to take care of themselves. On the other hand, it can be enjoyed as a privilege of being born female. I take the latter attitude, thus have been enjoying the hell out of being out and about in Clemson.

Pssst! Photos.

For the next few days I’m going to be a bit quiet here on Look, Something Shiny! Latice and Bryan are keeping me very busy with projects, delicious meals, and chuckles over “high gravity” beers. But don’t think that I’m not going to do my best to tell you all about it. From now until the 19th of this month, check the Photos page frequently to see the fun through my camera lens. Whenever I have a quiet moment (and I anticipate one or two this weekend) I’ll post some stories about the goings-on. In the meantime, enjoy the pictures!

Love, Peace, and Chicken Grease,

~Nyco

Airplanes were once places of luxury and comfort, complete with gourmet food and plush seating. Those days are long gone, at least for the average traveler. Unless you have tons of money and free time, once you enter the air travel system you are subjected to delays, disappointments, and violations of your privacy and/or personal space. You are forced to place trust in companies and people who might be trying their best, but are doing so in a misguided fashion. In advance, I want to state that I hold no grudge against any airline employee, nor am I complaining about the service I have received. My beef isn’t with the people; it’s with the the terrible policies and practices of the airlines and the US Government.

Such as:

Paying extra for “Premium” seating

Why does a standard seat have to be so uncomfortable that people have to pay more for a “Premium” seat? And what makes that “Choice” seat so awesome that it costs extra? Does it have more leg room? Is it closer to the exit, thus improving your chance of surviving a crash? Is there a fart barrier? Face it: If all of the seats in your row are full, no matter where it is in the “coach” or “economy” part of the plane, you are squished like a kid getting her first hug from Grandma. So why price them differently? I am not a large person and I still take up every inch of seat width. Put me next to a middle-aged businessman and we have just made it to first base without even making eye contact or knowing each-other’s names. It’s ridiculous how we pay hundreds of dollars for transportation and still have to smell one another’s deodorant (or lack thereof) and passive aggressively fight over arm rests. Airlines, all of your seats need to be wider. Don’t make us pay extra for something we deserve.

Understaffed ticket counters

When a flight is about to leave, why are there no more than three employees working the counter? And why, if I am checking baggage, do I still have to wait in line for a bag tag after using the automated check-in? The airlines who place an agent near the self-check kiosks to hand out tags and answer questions are doing a little better than those who put the computers waaaaaaay far away from the counter and make me find someone to give me luggage stickers. Doesn’t the latter defeat the purpose of automated check-in services? My proposal: Put scales next to the kiosks, allowing me to weigh and tag my own luggage, and then when I bring my baggage to the handlers they double-check my work and send me on my way. Massive time saver. Keep those three gate agents handy to take care of special situations, and they’ll find that the lines are shorter and people less grumpy as savvy passengers serve themselves through the process and leave the path clear for those truly in need of help.

Checked bag fees

Any normal human needs a bag when traveling, so why make us pay extra? Know what bag fees do? Cause people to try to cheat the system by bringing oversized carry-ons or making their small children haul bags on board planes to comply with the “1 carry-on, 1 personal item” rule. Both scenarios slow down the boarding process, as gate agents try to talk the former into checking their bag and the latter struggle with their heavy burdens. Checked bag fees unfairly victimize families and folks who are taking extended trips (tourists, those traveling to see loved ones, vacationers, etc.) and therefore are a misguided attempt at recouping costs. I say eliminate the checked bag fee. It was a mistake. And the unplanned side effects are money lost in boarding delays, possible law suits over injury caused by by hefting overweight carry-ons into overhead compartments, and a drop in ticket sales as people take their business elsewhere. Like me.

The TSA (not directly part of the airlines, but affects the experience nonetheless)

We all get that we’ll have to put our liquids in a certain size baggy and take our shoes off when going through security. Do we really need the constant reminder that the “Threat Level is Orange”? That’s an arbitrary color for an ambiguous concept. Before 9-11 I’d never heard about any threat level, and since then I haven’t heard of it changing. Let’s give “Orange” a break until we have something new to talk about, okay? Also, after x-raying my carry-on, running me through a metal detector, maybe patting me down (including touching me in places only my husband is allowed access to), scanning me with a wand, x-raying my checked bag and possibly opening it to rifle through its contents (if not because something looks suspicious, so you can satisfy a daily quota), how do I feel any safer? In all honesty, I feel more violated and unnerved on a personal level. Ben Franklin said it: “They who would give up an essential liberty for temporary security, deserve neither liberty or security.” I want to feel free to use the air transport system without fear of being hassled or violated, and of having things stolen from me. Yes, I would be willing to die for that right if the TSA would quit going through my checked baggage without my being present and stop touching me.

I understand that using air transportation is an American! standard now. Even two-hour drives are being replaced by short hops in airplanes. We want to get there fast! Get the trip started! Not waste time on travel! But the system is failing us on so many levels, from destroying a vacation to forcing us to travel in utter discomfort. It’s not right! And we need to do something about it!

What do we do?!

Update December 4th, 2008 at 4:45am PST: My Twitter friend, Gary, wrote this great blog post about what it’s like to be a dad traveling with family by air. It’s a great perspective, and one that makes me feel like it’s even more important for the airlines to make things better for kids, much less us grown-ups.