1) MARTA had a stop two blocks from the hotel, with a ticketing system very similar to New York’s. On the plus side, a train going to the airport arrived as I was stepping off the escalator. On the minus side, I was panhandled as soon as the doors closed. Half an hour later I arrived at the airport.
2) En route to the airport, I finished The Picture of Dorian Gray. Much is made of seeing the “before” and “after” versions of the portrait, but I confess I would like to see a painting of Dorian’s last encounter with his portrait — and what happened after. That might be splendid.
3) I’m so used to security at Logan Airport I was unprepared for the sheer volume of people funneled through at the Atlanta airport. And in that process, a novelty: walking two abreast through an enclosure containing a TSA employee with a K-9 security dog frisking about.
4) My flight to PHL left over an hour late due to “maintenance issues we took care of on the ground,” and I was mostly resigned to missing my connecting flight. We had a wee bit of turbulence outside the plane — and a screaming child inside, two rows ahead of me — so you can imagine how pleased I was to learn I could make my connection in 20 minutes, as arrival and departure gates were nearby.
4a) It’s interesting, one has no sympathy at all for a screaming child one cannot see. One is more likely to be concerned for a child one can see.
5) Another child impacted my second flight, sitting by the window next to his mother. As soon as the beverage cart was anchored firmly in place right by our row and I had poured a full cup of club soda, the mother asked the flight attendant, “And can he go to the bathroom?” Logistically, I am already thinking that I will have to empty my tray table and stow my book, all while holding a full glass of club soda as well as the can. As it happened, we all had to wait until all rows near us were served, and I feared the young person might be too late! But it all worked out successfully.
6) During both flights I managed to get through both Lady Windermere’s Fan and Salomé. During moments of turbulence I was able to fall back in my mind to waltz music from the 1949 Hollywood version of the former, The Fan, with Jeanne Crain, George Sanders, Richard Greene (swoon), Richard Ney (also swoon), my beloved Martita Hunt as the Duchess, and the incandescent Madeleine Carroll as Mrs. Erlynne.
6a) Salomé, of course, called forth visions of Alla Nazimova’s beautiful and deranged silent film, with costumes based on Aubrey Beardsley by Natacha Rambova (also the mastermind of her husband Rudolph Valentino’s career). Salomé is every spoiled wealthy woman everywhere who thinks it’s OK to command whatever she wants, no matter how depraved. It would be interesting to set this in the Hamptons or Scottsdale.
7) Back on the MBTA. On the plus side: almost no wait times — a rarity these days! On the minus side: while sitting at State Street waiting for my train, a janitor asked me to stand for a moment so he could sweep up an abandoned hypodermic needle under the bench.
8) Walking home from the station, I realized this weather could be described as Louisianian: humid, hazy, and soft, but much cooler than the fierce days I’d just experienced.
9) In my luggage: chicory coffee from Niece Who Must Not Be Tagged, moon pies from Diane (she insisted I squeeze a box into my luggage), Mother’s bride’s book, and a hefty sheaf of large photos and other ephemera. All proof of a wonderful week reconnecting with family and friends.