I would rather go to the dentist than go to the airport. I would rather go to the gym than go to the airport. I would rather go to church than go to the airport. The entire process—missing your train, waiting, waiting, getting there, finding your way around, checking in, going through security, getting undressed, removing your laptop, showing your identification to three different people, submitting to an additional random search, collecting your things, getting dressed again, sweating, crumpling your papers, making your way to the terminal, waiting, waiting, waiting, boarding the plane, waiting some more—is exhausting. But you know this. The flight was smooth, though terribly uncomfortable; either I have gained more weight than I realized, or planes are getting smaller.We made it to Denver at a little past 8pm. Outside, the air was crisp and clean and satisfying. I found a shuttle to the Marriott Denver Tech Center, and I sat in it for almost an hour before the driver decided he wasn't going to get any more passengers. I made it to the hotel at around 10. John Atkinson had told me that it was a nice place. I can't describe it for you right now; I felt nearly blind with exhaustion when I arrived, but I can tell you that it is, indeed, a nice place.
So far, Denver is the same as Manhattan. I can hear traffic from my window. I am sure some differences will come to light in no time. In moments, I will be meeting John and Jason Victor Serinus for breakfast. I will make a joke about Jason being a green-freak, communist pig, and we will form our plan of attack. Be sure to check the RMAF blog often for updates.
