My flights

My flights were astonishingly uneventful. This was the first time since 9/11 that I never had my carry-on bag searched by hand, not even at the security checkpoint. (And the only two previous times when I wasn't pulled out of line getting on the aircraft and re-searched by hand were when there weren't any security screeners on duty.) Interestingly, they also didn't have people show ID when getting on the plane, just when going through security. I think things are finally starting to get a bit more realistic. I have to say, I was pleased when I got my boarding pass and it didn't have the "special security screening" indication on it.

The Boston-LA leg was quite nice. The plane wasn’t too full, and I had an empty seat next to me (so I could swing up the armrest). And the weather was spectacular for most of the flight, and it was all in daylight, so I got to ogle the Midwestern farms and small towns and the gorgeous Southwestern mountains and countryside. And I listened to a lot of good music.

The LA-Honolulu flight was a bit more crowded, but I was seated right by a bulkhead, so I had a lot of leg room, and there were some sweet kids seated with me. (They were part of a large family of maybe six or ten travelling together.) And there was a very cute and very mellow, calm, quiet baby seated diagonally in front of me! Tragically, her parents seemed to want to keep her.

In addition to listening to music, I read a couple of Russian short stories on the planes: “The Cave” by Zamyatin (who wrote We, on which 1984 is almost certainly partly based), and “The Stationmaster” by Pushkin. That felt good; it’s been years since I read much Russian beyond the occasional headline. I was reading them in an edition with a facing-page translation and a glossary; otherwise I certainly couldn’t have managed it without a dictionary. Even so, it was fairly slow (especially the Zamyatin; he’s extremely descriptive and extremely elliptical), but that’s the beauty of a long plane flight. The Zamyatin was depressing but good; the Pushkin was mock-depressing and very amusing, as Pushkin often is. (Pushkin reminds me a bit of Saki, although much more understated.)

By the way, if there are extraneous h’es strewn through this posting, that's because Tigris’ keyboard types an h if you so much as blow on the h key. :-)

Arrival

I was so excited throughout my travels yesterday, looking forward to seeing Tom and Tigris. My plane got in to Honolulu a little early, but I had voicemail from Tigris saying she was already at the airport. She was sitting by the baggage carousel, and we had a wonderful huggy reunion.

Tom was at work, but he had invited us to stop by after Tigris picked me up, so we drove to the army base he works on (as a civilian doctor) and went in to see him. It's a nice hospital, with lots of modern equipment and very well laid out. I guess there are some advantages to working for the government. It was fabulous to see him, and cool to see where he works. (Tigris had actually never been in to the hospital either.)

Then Tigris and I came back home and I got to get the tour of their house (which is great! Modern light construction, but hey, for Honolulu that's just fine. And their pool is fabulous.) And most of all, I got to love on Hamlet. We took a walk to the shore, where we sat on a little stone wall watching the stars (constellations I wasn't familiar with in that direction) and listening to the surf against the rocks, while Hamlet explored puddles. It was good for the soul.

By the time we got home from that, I was pretty zonked. (Being 11, of course, it felt like 5:00am to me.) So I lazed around and played with Hamlet and chatted with Tigris a bit, and then went to bed. Slept very well. Not sure exactly what we'll be doing today, but we might be going to a clothing-optional beach if we can get directions.

PS -- They have a gorgeous plumeria tree in full flower in their front yard. (The plumeria is the Hawai'ian state flower.)