Notes from the River

50 minutes into continuously circling LAX, waiting to pick up a film crew arriving from Tokyo, I began to lose my grip on reality. I think it was the combination of aggressive hotel shuttle drivers, “luxury SUVs” used by airport limo services (I really think we need to legislate against the SIZE of these things), and the weather yoyoing between bright hot sun and fat drops of rain, that really drove me to madness.

I suppose I’ve come to this realization late, but, I HATE LAX. It’s an awful airport. It’s the only airport where I’ve ever missed my flight, and it wasn’t even until my fault! One time, I went to the terminal that was on my plane ticket, and no one was there. The entire terminal was shut down. I had to drag my suitcase all the way to the next terminal, only to find out I had to go to yet another terminal to check in! I HATE LAX!

I’ve decided that the airport’s only saving grace is the theme building. Yet, LAX can’t even be bothered to do anything with it, it’s been empty for years. When my grandmother flew into LAX at the end of a long trip to Europe in 1965, I can imagine that the theme building, drenched in sun, surrounded by palm trees, was an amazing sight. It was the height of glamorous air travel, after all. She never had to deal with a tinted window SUV the size of a military tank trying to cut me off from merging into the arrivals lane.