When the heck am I?
It’s 6:50 p.m. Tuesday in Chicago, 7:50 p.m. in Raleigh, still Tuesday of course, and 8:50 in the morning Wednesday in Tokyo, where we’re heading at about 560 miles an hour airspeed. We’ve got about six hours to go and have been traveling about six hours.
I know all this courtesy of the MacBook Pro in whose glow I am illuminated, some basic math, a nice tracking display that American Airlines provides, and a friendly flight attendant.
My body, however, knows none of this. It knows that it is mightily confused. I slept a little less than 2.5 hours last night. I’ve eaten heavily and surprisingly well--aside from the overcooked mini steak, all the food on the plane has been reasonable. I’ve dozed what seemed like a fair amount in my plush first-class seat, it the product of years of accumulated airline miles. The covers are closed on the windows.
I have no clue what time it is, even though I know what time it is.
Interesting sensation, and one I expect to get only weirder. I didn’t particularly care for the movie, Lost in Translation, but my friend Jorge has told me that I’d appreciate it a great deal more once I’d traveled to Japan. I’m beginning to wonder if he might not be right.
This experience has convinced me that I wish I were rich enough to fly first class all the time and not break my personal bank. The seat is spacious and reclines fully into a bed. The flight attendants are great. We get Bose on-ear, noise-canceling headphones, and so on.
And now to take my increasingly disoriented brain and focus it by working, first on PT stuff, then on Slanted Jack marketing tidbits, and finally on Slanted Jack itself.
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2 comments:
"She knows, now, absolutely, hearing the white noise that is London, that Damien's theory of jet lag is correct: that her mortal soul is leagues behind her, being reeled in on some ghostly umbilical down the vanished wake of the plane that brought her here, hundreds of thousands of feet above the Atlantic. Souls can't move that quickly, and are left behind, and must be awaited, upon arrival, like lost luggage."
William Gibson, Pattern Recognition
What's particularly amusing about your comment is that right after I wrote this blog entry on the plane, I opened a new book I had brought for the trip: Gibson's Pattern Recognition.
The e-world is proving weird in its own right, because Google has sensed I'm in Japan and now will give me only Japanese prompts in blogger. Makes posting blogs more than a bit harder. I'll have to fix this as time permits, but it's off to do four hours of panels for me.
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