Grounded. That's a verb.
To be gounded. To be prevented from flying or confined to the ground (i.e. snow, sleet, tardy flight crew, bad weather in Boston). THE (now official) RECESSION? Just sayin'.
But what's that phrase...you're a well "gounded" person? What does that mean? Does it involve snow? Obviously not, but it portrays sensibility, having one's "feet on the ground" or "sound arguements" if you will. But let's run with "feet on the ground"... (laugh laugh. okay lets move on).
If nothing else ladies and gents, these last few months of land-locked-ness has kept me literally and figuatively grounded. Reflecting without a birds-eye, cloud-latent sky that is borderline devine, inspirational-like sunrise view has not only been feasible but might have actually been fruitful. Sans fruit.
I've talked to a lot of people, and i've listened to even more. I don't have iDevice compatible head phones in my ears or luggage on my mind. I dont buy discounted SkyMiles points. (Maybe because they are quite literally worth nothing). I dont peruse travel sites. (Well, as frequently as I once did). And i've learned a little bit.
Today in my class, Phil Boas, a life-long journalist and current editor of the editorial page at theArizona Republic said to my ethics class, "I love journalism. I love journlists."
"But," said Boas, "I don't know if I will have a job tomorrow with the layoffs happening at the Arizona Republic."
Boas' speech continued, adopting inspirational as its apparent theme.
"I talked to an economist in his 60's this week and he told me that we are going to witness the worst recession over the next 6 months that we have seen in our lives," Boas said.
No newspapers in airport newstands? No "Hudson News," littered in every airport and terminal across the country?
What about the handsome CEO's with coffee that hide behind the expansive pages of The Wall Street Journal? (They can barely hide as is nowadays as papers have been reduced to smaller font and are now tabloid-style in width.)
Maybe the world we live in is changing. Gas is $1.59, Delta sends me phenomenal fares and I still wouldnt want to hop on a plane in the carpe-diem sort of way I did last year--I dont know why. Perhaps as a nation we are sobering up. Ironic, we sober up when I just turn 21.
Don't get me wrong, I'll be on a flight more than once or twice this Christmas holiday season, this is just the confessions of a grounded brunette once jet-set at 1:37 a.m.
To be gounded. To be prevented from flying or confined to the ground (i.e. snow, sleet, tardy flight crew, bad weather in Boston). THE (now official) RECESSION? Just sayin'.
But what's that phrase...you're a well "gounded" person? What does that mean? Does it involve snow? Obviously not, but it portrays sensibility, having one's "feet on the ground" or "sound arguements" if you will. But let's run with "feet on the ground"... (laugh laugh. okay lets move on).
If nothing else ladies and gents, these last few months of land-locked-ness has kept me literally and figuatively grounded. Reflecting without a birds-eye, cloud-latent sky that is borderline devine, inspirational-like sunrise view has not only been feasible but might have actually been fruitful. Sans fruit.
I've talked to a lot of people, and i've listened to even more. I don't have iDevice compatible head phones in my ears or luggage on my mind. I dont buy discounted SkyMiles points. (Maybe because they are quite literally worth nothing). I dont peruse travel sites. (Well, as frequently as I once did). And i've learned a little bit.
Today in my class, Phil Boas, a life-long journalist and current editor of the editorial page at theArizona Republic said to my ethics class, "I love journalism. I love journlists."
"But," said Boas, "I don't know if I will have a job tomorrow with the layoffs happening at the Arizona Republic."
Boas' speech continued, adopting inspirational as its apparent theme.
"I talked to an economist in his 60's this week and he told me that we are going to witness the worst recession over the next 6 months that we have seen in our lives," Boas said.
No newspapers in airport newstands? No "Hudson News," littered in every airport and terminal across the country?
What about the handsome CEO's with coffee that hide behind the expansive pages of The Wall Street Journal? (They can barely hide as is nowadays as papers have been reduced to smaller font and are now tabloid-style in width.)
Maybe the world we live in is changing. Gas is $1.59, Delta sends me phenomenal fares and I still wouldnt want to hop on a plane in the carpe-diem sort of way I did last year--I dont know why. Perhaps as a nation we are sobering up. Ironic, we sober up when I just turn 21.
Don't get me wrong, I'll be on a flight more than once or twice this Christmas holiday season, this is just the confessions of a grounded brunette once jet-set at 1:37 a.m.
PS Happy Belated Turkey Day. I rode horseback in my neveaux gounded style along the Suhauro Lake in northeast Arizona and the attached picture is of my brother crossing the lake in city slicker style-- courtesy of moi.
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