Delta, Delta, Delta

It is a grave disservice to a human being, this whole daylight savings time, especially since this particular human does not work in agriculture, and deprived of an hour’s sleep, has considerable trouble envisioning how the indirect benefit of farmers’ labor applies to him. But the usual strain of shifting forward one hour has just been exacerbated by the supreme offense of the delayed flight/missed connection combination that only modern air travel affords on a regular basis. It’s one thing to be in a later time zone for 78 minutes during an afternoon layover; it is an entirely different thing to have to wake up at what feels like 4:15AM to catch a final leg home. And when one has not planned for that extra pair of fresh underwear. Such injustice in the developed world.

Long time readers of this blog will recall that Susanne and I spent much of one awful terrible cataclysmic Christmas here, in Salt Lake City’s airport, one of the few times I can remember not being overjoyed at the site of snow-capped, majestic mountains. Ever since, Salt Lake has had a tinged reputation in my mind, and through no fault of its own. I blame Delta Airlines, who I have never really forgiven.

This time around, we have been selected at random to enjoy a fine late evening at a local hotel, a quick 15-minute shoot away from the airport, should we decide to get up before dawn to catch our rescheduled flight home. Perhaps we should tour the area Mormon temples instead. Certainly it was a strange mix of circumstances that brought us to a city Denny’s at 11:45PM for some dinner before crashing in our hotel room. I shouldn’t use crashing in a blog post about airline travel, I suppose. No matter. Now it’s time for the free hotel buffet and an early flight back to the middle of Washington, so I can drive an hour back to our corner of nowhere, and then on to my job.

I suspect I’ll sleep soundly once we’re back in Pacific Time.

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Categories: visiting

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