. elsewhere . . letters from the inaccessible .


21 December 2001
winter solstice

2001: the most abbreviated nutshell

Right now, the only thing I can say about the year was that I've learned this: There's hope for me yet.

the experience seattle project, part one

but the fire is so delightful

Saturday evening, after having the first part of Christmas with the family, I departed for the sunny shores of Seattle for a 4-day vacation, hanging out with Mister Jones, and doing, as he aptly put it, a whole lotta nothin'.

Vancouver Joe was luckily able to drop me off right next to Terminal 3 for my 8pm flight on Alaska Air from LAX to SeaTac. The flight was relatively uneventful, and I met, to purloin a Fight-Club-ism, the most interesting single-serving friend I've had. Actually, I'm not especially extroverted, particularly when traveling, most particularly when traveling alone, but my neighbor's extroversion was able to penetrate the veil of music and out-of-window focus which I had carefully affixed over myself. He's a programmer who had moved to Seattle from OC (Orange County to you non-LA folk) a few months back after his company was acquired by a bigger fish, only to be laid off 10 weeks later. He will be returning to LA in January, but he had some good recommendations for Seattle excursions, none of which, unfortunately, was I able to undertake.

The weather-gods were smiling upon my flight, indeed. Due to winds coming from the south over SeaTac, my flight made a north-to-south landing, before which we overflew downtown, which was a wonderful view. As we were descending for final approach, we flew through what appeared to be a snow-layer, which, at a couple hundred miles per hour, looked astonishingly like the image above. At the airport, when I'd been picked up by Mister and Mrs. Jones, I described it thus: It looked like something Stanley Kubrick would have done, had had he been around in the 20s and making a Fritz Lang film. I know the image above looks little more than what it is (noise with motion blur), but in real life, the image looked little more than that, with the flashing wing-mounted running lights flickering it in red, and with a secret video editor periodically sliding up the fader on the city's channel, fading downtown into the snowstorm in a most beautiful and grin-inducing fashion.

Stepping off the flight and into SeaTac's Concourse D (the hallway painted in rather lame-looking images of magicians), I proceeded to the baggage-claim carousel and was greeted by Monica and Clinton, and made the trek out to their Issaquah abode.

Next Update: Sunday Sunday Sunday! Placebo Sweet, the Floating Bridge, and Cafe Veloce.

musings of señor prod.

A little precession at the Revolution.


©2001 Timothy A. Clark -|-