Everyone at the terminal looks depressed. We are all going back to a city where the sky is gray, the weather cold, the economy down the drain. No one is reading more than the newspaper in a crowd of 100. Ipods, sure. Vacant stares, galore, Cell phones, you bet. The only happy travelers are the ones where Detroit is an interim stop. The ones moving on to sunny climes.
Do you dread going home? Is where you're going home to always a lesser place than where you've been? Does it seem like you're living in the least interesting place on the globe?
Sorry. My birthday has really bummed me out. Who wants to be 60? Only the ones out there who are 70.