JFK, Tuesday, 1995-10-23 22:00 local (Z-4)
I'm sitting in the Tower Air employees lunch room waiting for another hour and one half to pass. I have a show time of 23:30 for a trip to Tel Aviv, and at the moment am wishing I had elected to pay another night's lodging at the hotel so I could have kept sleeping. The company paid for my hotel last night since I got in here yesterday only to have them reschedule me to the Tel Aviv trip 24 hours later than the one I came in for. The hotel was good until 18:00, and at 17:00 when the wakeup call came I was already wide awake and having trouble sleeping, so I decided there was no point in my paying for an entire night only to lay restlessly in bed for another 5 hours. Now, however, I'm getting sleepy. I should have known.
The United Nations has been having a big function (their 50th anniversary I think) and the dignitaries are apparently heading home. So far just during the time I have been within sight of a window, I've seen three police escorted cavalcades. I suspect it makes these people feel terribly important to have the police clear a way through the New York traffic. I wonder if they'd do a better job if they had to come out of their ivory towers and face the world like the rest of us. Isolation with privilege does not make the best leaders.
I walked over to the Tower Air terminal to have a light supper, and was pleasantly surprised to see that they're really sprucing the place up. We've been hearing rumors that Nachtomi (Tower's CEO and majority stockholder—also founder) wants to turn Tower into a real airline. Maybe the rumors are true. I have noticed they've repainted the hangar and some of the airplanes. It would be amazing if I finally wound up working for a real airline.
I turned 56 yesterday, and I'm not taking it well. The mirror reveals jowls starting to sag, turkey neck developing, and the hair on top of my head is going fast. I really wouldn't mind losing my hair so much if only the top of my head would tan. However, it just keeps burning, and I really hate wearing a hat.
Obviously this letter is entirely without any real substance, but it does alleviate the homesickness on my part. I seem to be increasingly susceptible to wallowing in self pity about having to be on the road so much. However, I will console myself that, since I've already put in my 50 hours this month to make my guarantee, every hour I fly extra is more money. In these final four years of flying, I've got to make enough to make up for the fact I've never properly provided for retirement. Of course, I've never really worried about that before. Interesting how one's perspective changes as you age, but then I never really expected to live this long.
Terry