Flying to Austin

Montréal: No wait for check-in, security, etc. Crickets. The plane is almost empty. Is air travel dead? Why do I always show up early as requested?

In the air: Read all of Scientific American Mind, which isn't one of my regulars. In less than two hours. Is this due to editorial speed-reading or terribly fluffy neuroscience?

Chicago: Layover is four hours, and we got in early. Grabbed a late lunch (no sushi in sight, so I settled for 'za). Worked on a Pyramid article until the laptop batteries went low . . . need better batteries. Hah, but then I lucked out and scored an outlet! Full flight out, which meant a late departure. Confirmed: Rumors notwithstanding, you can't see princeofcairo's library from the air.

In the air: The airline packed the seats close in this jalopy – no room to use a laptop, thanks to the, er, zaftig lass in front of me kicking her seat back. Been in taxis, airports, and planes for almost 10 hours, now, so I have no creativity left anyway. iPod time. Pilot says we're running late. I feel sorry for philreed, who's already staying out late to pick me up.

Austin: Half an hour late. Poor Phil! And freezing rain . . . in Austin.

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