I never appreciated how easy and stress free the Boise Airport is.  Arriving with an hour and a half to kill before my flight was plenty of time… dare I say too much time, at least in Boise.  Nerves hadn’t set it yet, no butterflies, no nothing.  People keep asking “are you nervous?”  It’s weird to just have to look at them, blank faced and say “not really.”  I don’t know why I’m not anxious.  I can be an anxious guy at times.  Not this time however… Thank god.
  So, as usual, the flight to Seattle is short, uneventful and on time.  I had the pleasure of sitting next to a delightful woman named Karen who lives in Seattle where her and her husband still live with their two adult boys not too far from home.  We had the chance to swap stories and let each other in on where our lives are taking us.  She was super supportive of my path that I’ve taken.  It’s really encouraging to me when adults with twice as much life experience can sit in front of me with reassuring faces and eyes that are dazzling with excitement as they tell me how much fun I’m going to have.  Karen was a fantastic way to begin this new way of life.  Karen, I hope you get played a great hand and can get that new path for you as well.  And I hope your young one get’s laid an even better hand ;)
  Seattle.  Plane lands.  50 minutes until take off.  Shit, only  45 minutes.  Ok, where’s my gate?  Alaska conveniently decided to not include my gate number for my connecting flight when I checked in from Boise.  First task is find the big screen with all the tiny letters and numbers.  Alright, gate A12.  I found the signs for the gate and booked it.  I was so wired with adrenaline I cruised right through the entire airport, dodging gawking travelers and people young and old with cell phones in front of their noses.  I decided to make it a point to stop doing that.  You look kinda dumb anyway.
Feeling like I just accomplished something a little more significant that what I actually had, I see the little A12 hovering above a bunch of people moseying around.  Before I know it I’m boarding the biggest plane I have ever been on, probably ever seen.  There’s music playing in the background.  Not the old monotone elevator music that I’m so used to.  These were songs that I’m pretty sure are still on the radio.  There’s good lighting, happy lighting.  I didn’t even know this was a thing.  Total modern day conveniences culture shock.
       “Ya, I need to get out more.”
Taxi. Taxi. Taxi. Taxi. Taxi.  Round and round in circles it seemed like we went.  Why don’t the planes just sit still and save some fuel? On the runway the engines amp up.  It kinda sounded like an asthmatic trying to inhale a really long breath.  And then the slow rumble of takeoff.  Right before the rubber left ground all the passengers heard and felt this thump thump.  Me, being the ignorant flyer that I am, didn’t think a thing of it.  Everything seemed normal to me. After about 30(?) minutes the captain came on and explained that there’s no reason to be alarmed but the engine seemed to have been kamikazied by a rather large red tailed hawk.  In and out.  Poor guy.  Captain Alan went on to say that they are monitoring the engine very closely from the cockpit and remotely from the ground crew and everything seems to be operating 100% perfectly.  No problems.  Again, no reason to be alarmed.  Everything’s normal.
“This is your captain speaking.  Even though everything is totally fine, we are going to turn around and head back to Seattle and have the ground crew inspect the engine before we fly across the ocean.”
  Ya ok, I thought.  That sounds like some pretty solid reasoning.  I’d rather be safe than sorry when I’m hurdling through the sky across a vast expanse of cold water in a metal tube that lights flammable liquid on fire to propel itself.  A little caution here and there goes a long way.  Interesting little side note: I learned that the plane’s weight due to having a full tank or empty tank plays a factor in the ease of landing.  The captain took us on a little tour of the Olympics with the landing gear down to burn up some fuel before we went back to Seattle.  I need to ask my uncle Fred about this the next time I see him.  Remind me will ya, Fred?
So back in Seattle they kept us on the plane for about a half hour before they deplaned.  We all waited around in the terminal for an hour or two, delaying the inevitable we all knew was certain.  Lo’ and behold… no plane today.  Luckily for me, and I mean I really lucked out, they upgraded me somehow to Platinum in their flyers club.  Not really sure of what that entails in entirety but I do know that I got a nice hotel room and a free dinner and breakfast.  They had to pull me to the side to not tip off the other flyers that they were kind of getting the shaft.
  Ok so my trip isn’t going to happen until tomorrow.  That’s ok.  I’ll just enjoy the free accommodation and relax.  I talked to the people I care about.  Sipped on a couple drinks and mingled in the lobby restaurant for a bit.  All and all, it’s been a good day.  So what if I don’t leave until tomorrow? I’m not in a rush.
4:45 wakeup  call and I’m at the airport by six.  Flights been delayed.  And changed gates.  Come on.  No, it’s all good.  Just sit back and have a cup of coffee.  After all, your in Seatac and there’s nothing like going anywhere that’s not Boise, ID and experiencing the culture shock that is almost certain.  I’m starting to become a little too aware of my height...  What seems to be hours and many, many laps around the S terminal we finally board.  Taxi, taxi, taxi. Taxi, taxi. Taxi.  Take off.  No birds.  Smooth and easy.  So here I sit.  Two and a half hours in to my 14 hour flight.  The stewardess gave me two minis of Woodford… For free…  What the hell?! Delta, my friend, you have impressed.  Seriously.  I don’t even care about the bird.  That’s not true, I do.  But I don’t mind the layover.  Let’s call it even.  But seriously, feel free to keep the drinks coming.  I think I’m ready for this adventure.

*Off to Indonesia.