Portland Airport may be my favorite place to await a flight. It's clean, the people are friendly, there's an outlet for every passenger and you can actually understand the announcements.
The rocking chairs are nice and if you haven't had enough lobster, they're ready for you.
Other observations from @PWM:
I don't know how people traveled without smart technology. I suspect it keeps a lot of folks from going postal. Unless, of course, there aren't enough power outlets.
It's 705 steps from one end of the airport to the other. For a person short on steps and snug in the waistband, that's kind of a godsend.
In my journey up and back, I've learned a lot more about some guy's father's health issues than I need to. We're worried about whether he can get dialysis in the area to which they want to relocate him. What I learned from my newfound knowledge: bluetooth tech should be kept to the car. Or away from others' ears.
I've learned that families who leave their 2-year-old in charge of luggage risk TSA flocking toward them. You're welcom, random family. Happy travels.
When did dogs become passengers? Not service dogs. Just your ordinary pets; some that fit in carriers and some free-ish range. We shared space with four dogs on one of our flights out and I've seen at least six here. No cats, rats or ferrets. I wonder where TSA draws the pet line?
I was tempted to channel a store clerk and inform the hipster girl that she needed to decide if she was going to buy that book or just read it in the aisle.
I was even more tempted to tell the guy with the jeans to his knees that they needed a pull. His backpack was hiding his underwear, though, so I gave him a pass. Sort of.
I'm worried now about the soldier who left his military security badge behind at gate three. Seems like his/her C.O. might frown on that when he/she gets back to base.
Jeff is sacked out on a stretch of chairs. He never sleeps well the night before a flight. Ali took pity on him, sharing her pillow and Pink Bunny.
We had another awesome Christmas in Maine. Sadly, Ali and I had to leave our paintings behind because we'd already shipped out our extra stuff and had no room in our bags. We've redecorated a bit at Grandpa's. The bet line of the art outing was when I'd stepped back from my snowman family - a departure from the instruction - and was proudly surveying my work. Jen glanced over, pointed to the shortest snowman and asked if that was me.
We're traveling with a packet of James' donuts and some fruit. I think the fruit will make it home to Indiana. Not so sure the donuts will.