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Sometimes it’s deafening.

The decibel level of insanity

All across the land.

Can you hear it?

I wish I couldn’t.

But it’s impossible to ignore.

Sometimes it drowns out everything else.

Sometimes it’s all I can hear.

Even when just cruising along

and staying in my lane

The noise swerves into me.

Consumes me.

Engulfs me.

Sometimes.

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Apparently it’s a new day! Wait, didn’t we just have a day….yesterday? If I were a betting man, I’d predict another one is coming tomorrow too.

Funny thing about days – specifically, the ones that we call today – is that they’re always snuggled in somewhere between yesterday and tomorrowday. Ok “tomorrowday” isn’t exactly a word but it should be for continuity’s sake, don’tchyathink?

Yesterday. Today. Tomorrowday.

See how that flows…

There’s nothing I’d rather do than to think less about yesterday, not worry about tomorrow, and focus on what I need to do today. Truth be told, I’d rather not hafta think about today so much either and maybe I WOULD like to think more about tomorrow cuz it’s wide open to all kinds of good stuff. I mean…tomorrow could be the day that changes my life!

Then again… thinking too far ahead can blind us to the life-changing things that might present themselves today.

Then again AGAIN…the very thought of “life-changing” things can seem a bit daunting. Do I reaaally want my life changed today?

Maybe everything is just fine today!

Maybe yesterday wasn’t so bad either.

Maybe tomorrow….uhhh…..well I have no clue. Fingers crossed.

Today’s looking better already.

If you have to fly every week for work, it sure helps when ya love to travel. My employer recently opened a new office in Portland, Oregon and asked if I’d be willing to help with the launch and growth. They just needed me there a couple days a week, no relocation required and a great new challenge to throw myself into. Let me think about it: “Ok!”

Airport life has always fascinated me. People from all over coming and going, hustling and bustling, waiting and delaying, eating and drinking. Some are stressed the hell out. Some are excited to get the hell outta dodge. Others are just exhausted and try catching some Z’s at their gate while sprawled out on the floor or across multiple chairs.

As for me? I’m frequently found at one of the restaurants / bars, contributing to the local economy.

There’s no place on earth quite like the airport, and the bars are no exception. Have a Bloody Mary at 6am anywhere else and you’re an alcoholic, but at the airport? You fit right in baby. I’ve shared counter space with elderly ladies, 20-something lads and everyone in between. Some drink cuz they’re nervous to fly. Others do it to pass the time. Then there’s Miguel, a bartender at the Sacramento airport who, no matter what you order, says “would you like a half-priced shot with that?”

I think he earns more than the average C.E.O.

Traveling on the same airlines every week, at the same times and going to the same destinations is almost surreal. It affords the chance to get to know people that you otherwise never would.

Take Barry for example, a flight attendant for Southwest who likes to make flying a fun experience. He works a monologue into his pre-flight announcements and he’s freaking hilarious. He probably isn’t used to having someone on the same flight every week though, and after my 3rd or 4th time flying with him I had to give him a hard time: “Hey man I’ve heard you on this exact same flight the last few weeks and all I can say is….it’s time to get some new material dude.”

“Ok come back next week and I’ll be ready for ya!” Fist bump.

He didn’t forget – he was ready!

Then there’s Eric, a bartender at Hopworks Urban Brewery at the Portland airport. Always engaging, attentive and remembers your name. He recently said he was traveling to the SF Bay Area for a tech conference after his shift, that he had to “make an appearance” and that he was chartering a private plane cuz he hates flying commercial. Come to find out, he owns his own marketing company and has some BIG-name companies as clients. Bartending is just a hobby for him, something he’s done for years and it makes him happy.

Blake is a Concierge Extraordinaire at the Hotel Lucia in downtown Portland. I don’t stay there every time but when I do, we frequently chat it up and have spent hours talking about everything from sports to politics to the proper way to load toilet paper. He’s just a great guy who loves his family, his job and life in general.

And Brie is a bubbly employee at the SixT car rental agency at the Portland airport. A young gal in her 20’s with a great sense of humor, she’s flat out embarrassed about her name. When she first told me this, I was a little incredulous.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. I’m just one of a squillion Mikes walking the planet….how many actual BRIES’ are out there?? Besides, brie is one of the best cheeses ever – it’s not like you’re named after something boring like provolone!”

I’ve called her Provolone ever since.

Sure, I’m a little annoying and have a lame sense of humor, but I like to think my reverse-psychology has contributed to her self-esteem a little. 😉

There are good, genuine people all around us all the time and yet we’re often too caught up in our own world to get to know them. I’m certainly guilty of this too, but my new work assignment has been a blessing in ways I never imagined. In a world-gone-mad, connecting with new homo sapiens is good for the soul.

It was 4am this morning, a Saturday, and I was doing some serious gazing at the insides of my eyelids. I was wiped out after a long week and as far as I can tell, I was getting good slumbers. The sliding glass door in my bedroom was open, a cool breeze entering as it pleased. And then it happened.

My eyelids either felt embarrassed at the way I was staring at them or something was waking me up.

What’s that sound? A car alarm?!? Good grief people, can’t you let your cars sleep in? It’s Saturday!

As I lay there trying to piece together the dream I’d been having, I was hoping the car’s owner would disable the alarm at any second so I could return to my catatonic state without having to get up and close the slider – that breeze was nice and breezy. Alas, the alarm kept being alarming, and as I gradually became more conscious, I realized that it wasn’t a car alarm after all.

It was birds.

Geezus, don’t YOU guys realize it’s Saturday? Didn’t you have a long week too?

It sounded like they were out in the distance a ways and there seemed to be just a couple of ‘em. What birds say to each other God only knows, but these two were some serious chatterboxes, lemme just tellya. As they continued their early morning gossip session, some of their pals must’ve decided it sounded good and juicy and wanted to join the convo cuz the next thing I knew, it became one huge gaggle of chirping, squirping, and what sounded like burping. Talk about fowl play!

I started getting up to close the sliding glass door, butchya know….did I mention the breeze? And even though my feathered friends weren’t respectful of proper etiquette by waiting until a more civilized hour, I couldn’t help but think that maybe this was how my day was supposta start. Not that it was time to get up and be a productive human or anything. But when I think of all the noise in the world today….the madness, the sadness, the chaotic threads that weave throughout the globe on the daily… it dawned on me – a pre-dawn dawning – that this was quite the catchy chorus going on.

Sometimes a caveman would do well to eavesdrop on the non-human world more often. The sounds of the breeze in the trees, Bigfoot howling out in the distance, and the birds singing their tunes just as they have since the beginning of time. They have no clue how fucked up the world is. To them, it’s just another day in paradise.