in 1974 there was a scene in the Parallax View where Warren Beatty boards an airplane and when asked for his ticket he pulls out his wallet and pays with cash.
When Jimmy Buffett wrote “Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes” with the line about how reading departure signs in airports gave him wanderlust, it was long before Google Maps and lavish travel Web pages and cruise-ship ads. But I think it catches the feeling far more accurately. And I don’t mean just his lyrics. It’s tough to beat the idea of seeing the destination in the abstract, on a pegboard, and filling in the gaps with your mind and memory. Imagination always beats instant gratification.
Of course, Buffett’s lyrics also predate the fresh hell that is a modern airport on a bad day, and its resemblance to a crab-filled bus station that smells like snack food and has a TSA security line out to the curb. And somehow the digital signs aren’t quite the same. But what really kills the buzz is now knowing too many people who travel for a living and thus travel as much as I once hoped I would — and spend all that effort and hassle and hope only to go places that may or may not be so great and never see anything outside the Hyatt Regency anyway.
While still giving Mr. Buffett his due, I always have, and still, let contrails in the sky fill in for the departure signs in the concourse. Those travelers are already on their way, and I can pretty much decide for myself where they might be going or returning from.
In my head, it’s often someplace in Canada. In spite of all the awesome places I’ve been and know about, it’s disproportionately Canada. And within Canada, it’s disproportionately Nova Scotia. And within that, disproportionately but logically, it’s the only part of Nova Scotia I’ve ever been in, which is the part from Halifax to the end of Cape Breton. I know full well why I love that area. I don’t know why it springs to mind so much more than other parts of that vast and glorious (and nice!) country. But something tells me it might be because I haven’t been to Newfoundland yet.
Bilan almost 5 years ago
The grass is always greener where the jet trails lead to.
mddshubby2005 almost 5 years ago
Weird – I’ve always heard them called contrails instead of jet trails.
Concretionist almost 5 years ago
I’m only (a little) envious if they look like private jets. No TSA.
flying spaghetti monster almost 5 years ago
I agree with Frazz , but I reminisce about the air travel inthe 60s thru the 80s. A person could be spontaneous get a ticket at a moments notice.
kunddog almost 5 years ago
in 1974 there was a scene in the Parallax View where Warren Beatty boards an airplane and when asked for his ticket he pulls out his wallet and pays with cash.
Teto85 Premium Member almost 5 years ago
Halifax and St Johns are among my favourite places.
Night-Gaunt49[Bozo is Boffo] almost 5 years ago
Frazz Blog17 hrs ·
When Jimmy Buffett wrote “Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes” with the line about how reading departure signs in airports gave him wanderlust, it was long before Google Maps and lavish travel Web pages and cruise-ship ads. But I think it catches the feeling far more accurately. And I don’t mean just his lyrics. It’s tough to beat the idea of seeing the destination in the abstract, on a pegboard, and filling in the gaps with your mind and memory. Imagination always beats instant gratification.
Of course, Buffett’s lyrics also predate the fresh hell that is a modern airport on a bad day, and its resemblance to a crab-filled bus station that smells like snack food and has a TSA security line out to the curb. And somehow the digital signs aren’t quite the same. But what really kills the buzz is now knowing too many people who travel for a living and thus travel as much as I once hoped I would — and spend all that effort and hassle and hope only to go places that may or may not be so great and never see anything outside the Hyatt Regency anyway.
While still giving Mr. Buffett his due, I always have, and still, let contrails in the sky fill in for the departure signs in the concourse. Those travelers are already on their way, and I can pretty much decide for myself where they might be going or returning from.
In my head, it’s often someplace in Canada. In spite of all the awesome places I’ve been and know about, it’s disproportionately Canada. And within Canada, it’s disproportionately Nova Scotia. And within that, disproportionately but logically, it’s the only part of Nova Scotia I’ve ever been in, which is the part from Halifax to the end of Cape Breton. I know full well why I love that area. I don’t know why it springs to mind so much more than other parts of that vast and glorious (and nice!) country. But something tells me it might be because I haven’t been to Newfoundland yet.