The Severed Cortex

Despite the fact it was past midnight before we went to bed, we are both up early. We gather our few belongings and head for the Metropolis Theater to wait for our luggage tag color to be called. It takes almost two hours for our color and we are stuck watching the same 15 minute CNN Headline News loop over and over. Eventually they call our color and we head through customs. The customs woman asks if I'm bringing back any alcohol or tobacco and I tell her no. She welcomes me back to America. I'm still thinking that I'm going to have to take our luggage through customs but it turns out I don't have to. It seems as if I'm home free although I still have to go through TSA.

We had to wait in the Miami airport forever, but our flights home were uneventful. We fly a little Embraer 145 from Cleveland to St. Louis and while I really like flying them more than any other commercial plane, they are a little small for landing in inclement weather. That's what we had in St. Louis as we came in on the tail end of a very windy thunderstorm. It was a little like riding a rodeo bull, or at least what I imagine riding a rodeo bull must feel like.