a day in the life, at O'Hare airport, 12/1/10

Shit, I’m back in O’Hare.

OK, Apocalypse Now humor might not apply here. Better yet, it doesn’t apply now. Check with me if I’m stuck here another 24 hours from now. But don’t think that will happen. It’s a grey day, but not much precipitation, and flights are coming and going here. I should be en route to Oklahoma City on time.

There’s a familiarity with O’Hare. Anyone who travels shares that, I’m sure. For some it’s the lines, which swamp gates and arrival/departure boards every so often. For others it’s the food kiosks. Where else can you get coated nuts in an airport. What’s with Nuts on Clark anyway? For all of us, it’s the distance. Unless you are fortunate enough to have a connection in the terminal in which you arrive, you’re going to walk. Today, I walked from the end of the ‘B’ terminal, under the tarmac, and over and across to the regional terminal, to the far end of the ‘F’ terminal. This was an 18 minute walk, about a mile. That’s a lot of ground covered, and I didn’t stop at any point along the way.

For me, the familiarity with O’Hare comes from the architecture. Those repetitive yet simple and clean steel arches that support and lift the main terminals, at least the United terminals, are very soothing. They seem to smile down on you, guide you like a beacon towards your destination. They’re like stars in the night. Wherever you are in the terminal, when you look up, there they are. And they are as far as the eye can see, at least because this terminal seems terminal, and endless.

The straddle and cover food courts, restrooms, and a range of kiosks. So they top over crap, and junk, and spaces mostly passed right by. But they cover us, shielding us from the glare of the sun’s rays, or the bite from the winter’s wind, or the bluster of a snowy burst. And they’re just there. And they’ll be there when I come back through, reversing my course, in a scant 48 hours.

And they’ll provide the same reinforcement, and the same familiarity, and hopefully will provoke the same sensation.

We’ll see.