Travel

S and I went to Sedona to see my Mom's side of the family for a belated Thanksgiving. We flew out of San Jose since it's easy to pick S up at work and head 15 minutes south to San Jose rather than return to San Francisco.

Sedona was beautiful- lots of lovely fall colors, striking red rocks, green forest, and plenty of time for us to reconnect with my family and just relax.

One night, we went to go see No Country For Old Men. S and I had already seen it at home and loved it. In San Francisco, at the end of the movie, the entire audience just sat in stunned silence. It was incredible. Not so in Arizona...

At the end of the movie (which is not your nice, tidy packaged ending), the Arizona audience became angry. Angry and verbal. A guy muttered behind us "I'm not leavin' until they give me a proper ending!" To him we say good luck since there's another showing in 20 minutes in the same theatre. Another woman yells "That was crap!" (simple and direct). There were guffaws and laughter, sighs of exasperation. It was a unique experience being able to see the same movie in two locations and experience the audience reaction. I wanted to turn around to everyone and say "No! It's a great ending, see....." But instead I just took it as an experience and tried to remain non-judgemental about it.

On the way home, in Phoenix airport, a middle-aged woman sat next to us flipping through a newspaper and drinking a coffee. She got a phone call from what I presumed was her husband and they began discussing how a recent conversation with their daughter had gone. It sounded like they were at odds about how to discipline her. After a few minutes, she began arguing with her husband in earnest, throwing out zingers like "NO, NO, NO! Stop the conversation in your head, I'm just telling you what I saw. Remember, we talked about this!". It became rather personal and I was uncomfortable, pretending to thumb through Rolling Stone, while eavesdropping.


On the plane, we encountered some rather strong turbulence. We were seated in the row behind the exit row, and I'd been watching the gentleman in front of us in the exit row consume two vodka screwdrivers. In the midst of the turbulence, I begin thinking "OK if this plane crashes, I've got to figure out a way to get that exit door by Mr. Screwdriver open. Maybe I'll push past him...mMmmmm...or maybe I'll just go to the right and use that exit row." Obviously, we didn't crash, but I still found my mind in overdrive.

That's what I love about travel: It's an opportunity to experience different reactions of crowds watching the same movie. It's an opportunity to hear a fight in a crowded airport and notice your mind in overdrive.

Back home in San Francisco, it's cold and sprinkling. I miss the gorgeous red rocks and my family in Sedona, but I'm happy to be back in this city I irrationally love.