Lets face it. Who among us hasn't paused for a moment to watch people? Any man that has found himself shopping with his significant other at the mall during the holidays, has found himself sitting on a bench outside of a store he'd rather not be caught in by any of his friends wives. Watching people rush to and from with bags in hand. Almost every mom that has taken her kids to the park in an attempt to stop the incessant summer war cry "I'm bored", has found herself distracted from the pages of the book she intends to finish. Looking beyond the print to size up the other mothers at the playground. If you have listened to the advice that hastens you to arrive two hours early to the airport ensuring you have time to make it through security, than you have found yourself sitting in a terminal with nothing to do but observe people.
I am that person, the one who is fascinated by what others around me are doing. It probably started as a paranoia in my youth. Worried about how I looked, who was looking at me, what were they thinking? Somewhere along my path to indifference, this behavior blossomed into a curiosity. I find myself taking mental snapshots of the people who cross my path, during those times of captivity with nothing to focus my thoughts on. I wonder where they came from and where they are going. Why did they choose that outfit, and more importantly do they act this way all the time. What would it be like to spend time with that person? Would I spend time with that person?
Most often the activity of people watching is nothing more than a passing of time. Rarely is there anything memorable about my thoughts or the people that I see. If asked only hours later what was observed, I would make a faulty witness remembering few details that could incriminate. However, there are those times when people stand up and beg for your attention. It may be the clothing choice or the flamboyant personality. Perhaps it is both, but whatever the draw all other distractions pale in comparison to the one you find yourself observing. These moments are the inspiration for this blog.
Maybe the picture hasn't yet been painted. Allow me to drape the canvas in the memory of just such an instance. I was spending time in Terminal D of the Salt Lake City airport. This is the terminal where Skywest parks it's small turbo props. When making a short jump to a small airport, these loud and often uncomfortable aircraft were the economic choice of many large airlines. While I sat in the airport pretending to be distracted by my iPod, I was suddenly distracted by a couple choosing to sit across from me. I could spend a thousand words describing them, but a picture is worth every word. I knew as I put together the pieces of the puzzle that it would take a picture to truly describe this event, so I covertly switched gears with my iPod. How convenient technology has become. Phones and music devices masquerading as a part time camera. One that gave no light or sound that would snitch on the undisclosed activity.
He had the look of having just climbed off of a Harley Davidson motorcycle. Weathered in just the right way to ensure those around him would understand he was not to be messed with. A sign of who he probably was at one time, but a life given over to a more domestic and softer reality. She was doing the same thing that I had been doing for the past hour. Pretending to pay attention to an over sized laptop that was being used to do nothing more than play a game of solitaire. She would look up and scan her audience of potential onlookers with a routine timeliness. They both seemed to scream in unison, "We are country proud"! From the cowboy boots to the Wrangler brand jeans. The heavy set belt buckles to the jackets of choice. To top it all off they shared two cups which sat between them on the floor. You heard that correctly, they shared both cups. One for drinking and the other for spitting. Both of them had a pack of chew in the cheek, adding to the thought that either one of them could probably kick my ass.
I had spent plenty of time observing the couple. It was time to move on. Despite my fascination with where these people came from and where they must be going, I could hear the initial call for my flight to begin loading. I gathered my things and made my way towards the gate. As I gathered my things and began to move, I could feel their eyes on me tracking my every motion towards the gate. I found myself the victim of my own pastime, they were people watching and I was the "people".
Oh well, on to other things I thought. It wasn't until I had found my seat in the small turbo prop and settled down for a forty minute flight to my small town destination, that I noticed a familiar set of boots walk by moving towards the rear of the plane. NO, it couldn't be I thought. So I relied on technology once again. In a brilliant strategy to avoid blatantly looking towards the rear of the plane, somehow I knew that the shocked expression on my face would give my thoughts a sort of transparency, I pulled out my phone once again and took a picture. The intention was to make those around me think that I was capturing my own reflection in the camera. The idea was to skew the lens a little to the right in order to see what lurked behind me. The operation was a success!
Sitting just over my right shoulder sat the couple that had caught my attention in terminal. Were they following me? One thing was for sure, I had captured their attention with my activities. Evidence sat before me in the picture that I had just taken. The rest of the flight was spent in an uncomfortable silence, as the turbo prop engines roared at thirty-thousand feet. In those moments that passed slowly with the ticking of every second, an idea came to mind, "How am I going to explain this when I get home?". Needless though it might be to mention, as the pictures speak the thousands of words that I can't, me and my family had hours of laughing over the situation. I would recount the story for each gathering of loved ones and acquaintances where we would relive the moments I spent with a couple I didn't know creating a memory that would last a lifetime. To this day I don't know who the couple was, where they had come from or where they were off too. I don't know their story any more than they know mine. Our lives simply crossed paths in the Salt Lake City airport, Terminal D, as we both engaged in the activity of people watching.
So there you have it. One story in a sea of thousands. Thus the idea was born to share my moments with those that are interested. So if you find yourself on a flight to nowhere coming from that familiar place called somewhere and our paths cross... perhaps you will be the subject of my favorite captive pastime. Just know that it takes more than simply being present for me to remember you, and if the words on the page seem to describe the actions you may have taken then one thing is for sure... you did something, wore something, said something that captured my attention.