Some interesting observations came to mind when I was trying to pick pictures for this blog. One is that quite a few of the aircraft that I used to see in those days are no longer flying. This list includes the Boeing 747 (with the exception of the later B747-8), the Airbus 340, and the McDonnell Douglas DC-10 and McDonnell/Boeing MD-11. There is even a picture of a freighter DC-8 above! The Airbus 380 and Boeing 747-8 aircraft only arrived later, and soon they too will be no more.
Also of note is that a few of the airlines that were in existence at that time are no more, including Continental, Northwest, and US Airways.
The picture in the collage above of the small rolling suitcase taken in front of the door of my hotel room as I prepare to depart Los Angeles to come home is symbolic of the nature of my work-related travels in those days. The bag carried everything I needed for a short trip. It was small enough to fit into the overhead bins of the aircraft I flew on, so that I did not have to check-in any luggage. I could get through airports quickly without having to wait at luggage carousels or in check-in lines. I was constantly traveling – in and out of hotel rooms, arriving and departing at all possible hours of the day. The passageways, the concession stands, and even the restrooms, of the United and American Airlines terminals at LAX became very familiar to me.
A person can do it, especially at a younger age, but you may not really fully realize what the experience of constant long-distance travel is doing to your body and soul, especially as it is happening. Some of us simply had to do it.
I am sitting in the restaurant at the Hilton Garden Inn in El Segundo and I have pleasant buzz going. It is Happy Hour at the bar. I am partaking of a glass of red wine – for health reasons of course. The place is not crowded. Off to my left, at roughly 10 O’clock, a woman is complaining to her companion about the irresponsibility of somebody else in her workplace, and about how she is dealing with it. At a table right in front of me, a couple of folks are busy snacking, chatting, and consuming beer and vodka. At one point one of the gentlemen goes up the bar and brings back the rest of a half-empty bottle of vodka. It seems that he is not interested in having his drink poured into a glass by a waiter a little bit at a time. Off to my front and right, roughly beyond 1 O’clock, a group of women are having a jolly good time jabbering away loudly amongst themselves. I cannot make out if they are consuming any of the cheaper drinks that are being offered for Happy Hour. At 90 degrees to the direction I am facing, exactly to my right, is another gentleman who, just like me, is looking up at the Flat Panel TV high up on the wall towards a corner of the room. I think this gentleman is here for a free dinner. Along with his wine, he is eating the free oily hors d’oeuvres and the soup that are being offered a a part of Happy Hour. He has made at least a couple of trips to the buffet table for the food. The two of us are watching bits and pieces of the move “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” in High Definition. I see Richard Dreyfuss go cuckoo and start throwing all kinds of things from the garden through his kitchen window into his home. It seems that he wants to build a model of a mountain in his living room. Through the big glass windows of the restaurant right in front of me I can see the coconut trees and a parking lot. Beyond the parking lot is the elevated train station for the Los Angeles Light Rail Commuter train. I wonder if the spot outside the restaurant would be a good location to take a picture of the trees and the train station from, especially when a train arrives at the station and the light of the setting sun hits its side.
I am absorbing all of this while consuming my veggie burger. I am enjoying the French Fries. They are a special treat since I do not eat them often. They are not supposed to be good for me. I will make up for this breakdown in discipline by consuming a plate of fruit salad in the end. All of this probably only makes a difference in my mind.
I am experiencing all of this as if I am observing myself from somewhere outside of myself. Apparently, I am feeling a little detached. I am feeling a little separated from myself. You might think you know what I am doing here, but I am pretty sure I do not. But it is good to have that pleasant buzz anyway. Thanks goodness for Happy Hour.
I took the following pictures during my later trips to the city from the proximity on the hotel mentioned above, at the corner of Mariposa and Nash. Regular trips to Los Angeles were part of my work routine in those days, and I used to stay at this place a lot. I was also still in recovery mode from my heart procedure at that time.