crazy truths that have absolutely nothing to do with my new and exciting job.

I... have arrived. There's a "Lost" marathon on Sci-Fi in my hotel room. Heyo.

On a completely random note, the most interesting- and an excellent instance of divine (by which I mean DEE-VINE) modern anthropology- thing happened while I was at the airport in Charlotte, NC. I was sitting at my gate, at the far end of the terminal, suffering through a 2 hour layover. From my seat, I could see the long stretch of airport in front of me. Tons of people around me... huge crowds coming off planes and going on planes. Yet, with all of these people moving and shifting, I couldn't help but notice this one man. His head was shaved, he had a goatee, he wore an oversized striped brown polo, he had baggy denim shorts on, and his sneakers were clean and white. K-Swiss, probably. He looked like a townie... a mallrat, if you will. His girlfriend probably had a tanning problem, an acrylic nails affliction, muffin-top syndrome, and a Fargo accent. I say had because said girlfriend is nowhere to be seen. Instead, he has a baby girl in the crook of his left arm. To be more accurate, her neck and half of her back are awkwardly in the crook of his left wrist and forearm. He carries her like a bag of sand that is quickly slipping out of his grasp, yet he makes no adjustments; he doesn't set the backpack that is in his right hand down, so that he may shift her up and actually support her neck. He casually wanders over to an empty seat (one of very few... there are people ALL around us).

I scan the perimeter to see if anyone else notices the way he's carrying her. There is something sublimely wrong with it. Something you only see on t.v., and yet, it's so textbook, you probably wouldn't even see it on t.v., let alone in a crowded airport filled with mothers and fathers and grandparents and security guards and robotic voices droning over the loudspeakers "do not leave your belongings unattended at any time if you see unattended bags report it to airport security immediately."

Needless to say, I'm now half-grinning, half-panicking (in that socially moral kind of way) in disbelief. The voice echoing in the air above everyone seems, suddenly, to be the perfect soundtrack to what is happening. I feel like I am watching a post-modern performance piece.

He sits down and puts the baby girl on the floor in front of him, in between his feet. By now, people have seen him, noticed him, taken stock of this person who is, according to human standards, not right. They watch him like I'm watching, waiting to see if he is going to pick her up. He doesn't. He looks upset. He rubs his head, his cheek, all the while staring intently at her. He clearly has no idea that everyone's red flag alert is waving high. There is a silent but
absolutely pulsating tension in the air. Everyone within 10 feet is watching, waiting, panicking in that socially moral kind of way. A woman casually walks over and looks down at her, smiles, curls her fingers in a wave that people only do to babies, and asks him a question (which, of course, I couldn't hear), to which he replies with a small guarded smile. She walks away. Slowly. Looks back at him. Slowly.

He pulls a diaper out of his backpack, picks her up and cradles her more appropriately in his arm, and walks to the restroom. His backpack stays shoved under his seat. A few minutes later he comes back, sits down, puts her on the floor again, and starts talking on his cell phone. Staring at her. Leans back in his seat. Stares. Not a tremor of expression in his face. I've seen stoic parents, but this is breathtaking.

I should point out that the baby girl has not made a sound this entire time. In light of the general situation, this would be the least prevalent thought in my mind except, not 5 seats away from her and her caretaker, there was another man with his own baby. This other baby was swaddled and packed into a fancy carrier with toys dangling from the handle, and the father was sitting on the floor, waving a pacifier and a stuffed animal in his face while simultaneously cooing and smothering the infant with attention. This infant also happened to be screaming his head off. No one paid any attention. All eyes were on the muted baby girl and the man with her.

A man walks into the scene, notices the bizarreness of the situation, and walks over to the baby girl. He does the same thing that the previous woman did; smiles at her, waves, says something to the man, and gets the same diluted response. He too, walks away, slowly, looking back at him with flashing, worried eyes.

Our plane begins to pre-board, families and elderly people first. He picks her up, her head dangling over his arm at an angle that I have never seen before. If she were to look at me from that angle, I would be upside down in her field of vision. As he walks past the people waiting in line, they watch him, then turn to each other to exchange a look. No one murmurs. I don't see any lips move. All I see is the look. He boards the plane. I head down the hall towards the plane about 7 minutes later.

From where I am standing outside of the hull, I can see the flight attendant craning his neck to look down the center aisle of the plane. It's not hard to guess what he's trying to see. I board and go to my seat. Once I'm settled (I'm in a middle seat) I turn and peek behind me through the armrests of the rear of the plane. I can see his left cheek, his arm, roughly 8 seats behind me. I turn back around. The plane takes off.

We land. I stand up and get ready to exit. I look back at the waiting crowd. He, as well as his cargo, are gone.