Flights

In about thirty minutes Lola will be here to take me to the airport. I'm flying Southwest and do not anticipate paying $15 to check my one bag. American Airlines, as you may know, is now charging $15 for your first bag, $25 for your second bag, and these charges carry with them no promise of greater care in the handling of your bag(s). In fact, they carry no promises at all.

Gas prices, that's the reason. A congressional panel is now meeting to question the CEOs of the five biggest oil companies, and their questions are quite accusatory in nature. One questioner asked one CEO how much he makes per year, and the CEO answered, "I don't know." I leave that for you to ponder.

I don't like it. But I also don't like the idea that anyone who makes a lot of money is evil. Another ponderable.

But I'm writing to mention another kind of flight, the flight of all birds from my yard except crows. I mentioned it before, but it wasn't quite official back then. It is now, and I have taken down the wreath and thrown it away. A sad day. Maybe next year my finches will come back. We'll see.

No doubt I'm writing this blog to help the time pass quickly. I'm anxious, don't usually take evening flights, the day has seemed long. I've never "cruised" before, nor has Alyce. It's hard to wait, and yet this seems a courageous thing for me to do--take a cruise. You can ponder that one, too, if you want.