There was a debate today. One for the upcoming presidential election. It always amazes me that such things are necessary in such a polarized political environment. Liberal and Conservative. How can someone need to know the ins and outs of a platform when they are so ideologically different. Almost everything we do leads up to vast relief between platforms, and yet comparisons are inevitable. But when you open up that mess it just gets annoying.

Me and my box

Either way, I missed the debate, though it was going on all around me for the most part. People were talking about it. It was on the TVs and mothers watched with their children as they waited for planes. Passers by took it in over loud speakers as they hurried to their planes. Those sitting were waiting for later flights and were content to sit and be entertained and informed. The bustle passed them by like a river.

Those on their way somewhere were not inclined to change their plans for the debate. They had hard and fast places to be. The plane takes off in 20 minutes. Boarding will start in 10. Last call will be in 17. The restrooms have so much throughput. Coffee can only be brewed so fast. They moved and noticed the debate and overlooked the people sitting, mistaking them for boulders or stumps or other inanimate objects.

I had a little bit of time. Neither in the waiting group, nor the group rushing to somewhere else. There was McCain, There was Obama. Suits and ties. And Leher. Same as before.

Walking, walking, carrying my bright green box for Wordcamp. We shared a burrito. I had most of it, the box enjoyed a dab of sour cream here and there. Both of us confident in who of the two master debaters we would side with regardless of the answers to hypothetical, at this point, questions.

We strolled to the lavatory. Entered through the doorless corridor with a right turn. Guy in a suit, both cucksure and uncomfortable because of it and his buddy. “Woah, Nice Box dude!”

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s really something.”

“Is that a nuclear bomb?” the other says.

“It could be,” I say. “I’ll never tell.”

“Is that your dickinthebox?” the other asks.

“Sure” I say. I was about to set my box down on the sticky bathroom floor but stopped. “Why don’t you come open it.”