donger need food.

Hedonistic Pleasures

Looking over my right shoulder, watching the thin aluminum wing struggle to contain the two screaming starboard turbofan motors right before takeoff, it comes to me... I’m a hedonistic fool, pure and simple. I’ve but no other goal in my life but to roam this world and stimulate my pitiful brain with a plethora of auditory and olfactory musings.

Like the simple yet complex working of a wing on a transcontinental jumbo jet… Loaded with jet fuel, flaps extended and carrying two heavy turbofans, the tips of the wing flap impressively several feet up and down as the big Boeing rumbles down the bumpy runway. As the plane gains momentum, the speed of the air above the wing increases disproportionally to the air below the wing until that magical moment when enough lift is generated to hurl this several hundred ton hunk of tin, people, gas, and food up into the air above South San Francisco on this warm summer day.

It really is amazing how much the jet engines move on this thing…they’re literally jiggling in place, and yet manage to stay hooked onto that expertly crafted wing.

I think back to all those meals I’ve crammed into my mouth, from grease-laden and artery -clogging carne asada chips, to delicately rich yet similarly good-for-you pan-seared foie gras, to the somewhat disappointing smoked pork ribs and beef brisket from Memphis Minnie’s (the pulled pork was damned good, though). And I continue to wonder at what lays ahead.

Am I selfish?

Someone reminded me last night that I’m going to be thirty six next year. Thirty six. That’s 252 dog years. That’s 358,026,946,560,000,000 milliseconds. I’ve been squandering all that time on a wandering quest for selfish desires, living for the now, without notion of future, commitments, and permanency. And yet…

Eek, I can’t believe how crappy all this mindless dribble is coming out. Something’s definitely amiss…maybe it’s the lack of practice writing anything in months; maybe it’s the stresses of leaving work during such a critical juncture; or maybe it’s the excitement of visiting the homeland for what’s essentially my very first time. Whatever. At least Under The Boardwalk is playing, and it sounds damned good. I wonder if the other passengers will start freaking out if I burst out in song and choreographed dance?

Heh.

posted by VirtualErn @ 4:24 AM

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