And so it begins. I'm sitting in a Delta terminal in San Francisco International airport. In six hours I'll be in Atlanta, Georgia. In twelve hours I'll be somewhere over the Atlantic. In 18 hours I'll be in my new home - Italy.
I feel like I'm in the same movie scene I've seen dozens of times, about to take off to some grand new adventure, leaving my old life behind... although I doubt that the love of my life will come running towards me in slow motion right before I board the plane.
There's not a whole lot to say right now. In comparison to the crazy tales I'll be sharing over the next ten months, the stories of air travel are quite mundane.
But for now I'll leave you with this thought: how many articles of clothing must we remove at airport security before the TSA adds stripper poles next to the metal detectors?
Mitch out.
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