Friday, March 16, 2007

Why Do You Think They Call Them Terminals?

I hate flying anywhere anymore. I hate the people who run airports and the abbatoir-esque chutes they run us through, the utter fucking mess they've made of what was once something to look forward to. An event. Flying.

Bus terminals are now a more pleasant experience than airports. As if sending a God-like signal to the masses warning of the mess we've created (a sign ignored by all but a Chosen Few who know how to interpret these things), the amazing centerpiece building at LAX dropped a 1000 lb piece of stucco down from it's flying saucer like appendage last week. They'll either tear it down or, more likely, leave it to rot empty and tomb-like, as they've done with Saarinen's TWA Terminal at JFK.

I drove past it a few days ago. Like the center of a hurricane, the center of LAX is eerily quiet. Thousands of buses and cars zoom around counterclockwise, but in the center, where the structure lives, not a soul was to be seen, in car or out. There was some straggly yellow warning tape bloowing around, blocking the entrance to the awful Jetsons restaurant "Encounters" they built in half of the structure (The other half was offices and some storage - an astoundingly poor use of some of the most beautiful space in Southern California. The cardboard boxes had a splendid view.)

We deserve what we get.


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