Delta brought me here last night, through Atlanta. My trip was uneventful, even with a false emergency alarm at Hartsfield Airport. (A mechanical voice, barely audible over the usual din of the place, told us to move immediately to a “safe location” and wait for further instructions. Even if we’d been inclined to comply, how would we know what a “safe location” was without knowing the nature of the problem? And now that I think of it, are there places in the airport that aren’t safe?)
My guilty pleasure when I travel is Belgian waffles, smothered in butter and covered with syrup. This morning I was offered a “Texas waffle.” I took a chance. You can see what I got to the right.
My first lecture, at the Houston JCC‘s Merfish Center, starts in a few hours.