By the time I get to Phoenix.

I'm trying to decide whether people look different at the Minneapolis Airport. Different than the ones I see when I'm in Europe. My first impression. Americans look more bored. And second, Americans are heavier than Europeans. I'm more intrigued by Europeans. They arouse my curiosity. Maybe because they come from different cultures. The people I'm seeing in Minneapolis are headed for Phoenix. They look like escapees. Fleeing winter. Though the weather isn't bad. More spring-like than wintry. It's been a mild winter in Minnesota. And the sun is shining. But Phoenix has a predicted high in the 80s. I'm wearing an overcoat now. But I've packed two pair of shorts and short-sleeved shirts. Appropriate apparel for a Chicago Cubs spring training game that I'll be at tomorrow. Maybe some of these same passengers are going to Arizona for the same reason. Baseball. And sunshine. Another thing I've noticed. Americans seem more relaxed than Europeans. We convert our carry-on luggage into ottomans. To stretch and rest our legs. A young man across from me is pecking away on his computer with a long, yellow pencil in his mouth. I'm imagining the pencil being a long-stemmed rose. Off to my left is a portly man. Wearing a baseball cap. And another one with an orange and green Green Bay Packers cap. And a woman with a bulky scarf wrapped around her neck. Reading a newspaper. It's just been announced that our flight will be full. And that the last passengers to board may have to check their carry-on luggage. For free. Means I should try to get near the front of the line. But I'm in something called Zone 5. The last to board. Shucks. I had packed lightly. So I wouldn't have to check a bag. But that's all right. As long as I can play my game. Checking out my fellow passengers. I'm gonna be sitting next to a stranger. But he/she won't be a total stranger by the time I get to Phoenix. --Jim Broede