0700-0800 – My flight touched down on the landing strip of LAX with hardly a warning or vibration.  After five months of Spanish speaking in Argentina, I was ready to switch back to English and eager to stretch my legs.  I strode confidently to the immigration desk and proceeded through without interest.  Then I had to collect my baggage from the carrousel, walk ten meters to hand the customs agent my claims form, that was completely empty, and then re-check my luggage about 30 meters from where I started.  What was the point of that I wonder?

0800-0900 – Growing hungry, and after eating a breakfast of toast and oatmeal, with watered down, over-sugared coffee to drink, for the past few months, I make sure my first stop includes three American staples: Hot Cakes, Bacon and Hot Coffee, all located in a surprisingly cheap, around $4.00, meal at good old McDonald’s.  I wonder if the fact that they combined Maple syrup pancakes with eggs and bacon, creating these delicious McGriddles or the fact that they are so cheap is the real reason why American’s typically outweigh all of us.

0900-1000 – I’m already getting bored, so I pull out my laptop and search for a free Internet connection, like the ones available in nearly every single international airport.  Not here, or at least I can’t find a connection that doesn’t require ID; So much for checking in with the girlfriend back in Argentina or sending a reminder to my parents to actually remember that their estranged son is returning home and would appreciate a ride from the airport.

1000-1100 – After giving up my Internet search, I decide to break my golden rule of drinking at Indie coffee shops, hey that McDonalds coffee doesn’t count, and head to Starbucks for a nice Mocha.  Its just like I remember, hot, tasty and over-priced but at least it is consistent.  As I loiter in the sitting area, sipping my hot drink, I read a brochure about how Starbucks gives so much time and money to the communities that supply their coffee.  I wonder how much truth I am reading and vow to research the topic, some day, to see if social accountability is truly being met.

1100-1200 – A lengthy security check, that included removing shoes, belts and getting thoroughly patted down by a surprisingly friendly character, before being cleared to continue led to the next incident.  I walked about five meters before realizing that this inefficient security check, which could easily be beaten by any creative soul wishing to conceal a knife in their carry on bag, is an excellent photo opportunity.  I pull out my SLR and turn around to shoot the scene but I am quickly confronted by security and told that it is not allowed.  Thankfully, they were rather friendly and I did not find myself on the next flight to Guantanamo.

1200-1300 – Finally, after some wandering, I located the departure gate; 31B but learn that my flight is leaves later than I had thought.  I’ve now committed myself to spending the next two hours waiting in the small departures wing of LAX’s terminal 2.  Thank god there are magazine racks to browse, funnily dressed people, on their way to Mazatlan, Anchorage and everything in between, to observe.  Socks and sandals seem to be a fashion trend that just will not die!

1300-1400 – I am wandering back and forth around the waiting area, waiting to board my delayed fight.  I do some nice stretches, and watch as the entire overweight population sits and waits for their flight so that they can get on and sit patiently for it to arrive in Vancouver.  I remember a stat I read about the USA in an article in a magazine, years ago, that stated the average American walks only 300 meters each day.  I wonder how many of these people, who continue to sit and wait, just to sit and wait, weigh that average down.