Airports are portals to the world.

The Denver International Airport was built in cow pastures to the east of Denver, after Stapleton closed, and was turned into houses.

You follow I-70 east till you see white sails in the country, shuttle parking lots, arrival and departure ramps, east and west terminals. There are other ways to see the world but by air is the quickest and most dominant. Percentage wise, air travel is safer than walking to your local grocery. 

Airports have not been designed for long term comfort.

Chairs have arms and even small people can’t stretch out for sleep.Carpet is commercial grade, tough and thin with little padding. Lights twinkle twenty four hours seven and there is always movement of people to disturb dreams.

This trip, the quietest place to sleep, is an interfaith chapel in the east terminal overlooking TSA processing on the commons below.. A note on the chapel doors reminds you not to put your feet on chairs, move furniture, leave trash, or interrupt prayers.

This spiritual portal should be full of travelers who are about to board aluminum cans and be carried thirty thousand feet up, but no one is here but me.

The screening to get on planes is daunting, but the screening to get into Heaven must be crushing.

The only place I’m headed is the Philippines.

Whether there is a place in Heaven for me is not my decision.

I admire Mark Twain’s quip that ” I want to go to heaven for the climate, but go to Hell for the company. ” 


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