Johnny Rzeznik's Score Card

 

I arrived in Detroit to the Goo Goo Dolls playing on the airport speakers. A song about false names by a buffalo band heard in the first seconds departing my first gate; a minor and welcome absurdity. I’ve been thinking too much about all the luggage ever produced. The amount of stuff I have still seems absurd, but also by comparison not nearly enough. It’s all so new, injection molded plastic in every color. Luggage is an extension of the self, my own included. So of course I had to consider the old luggage. An airport is probably the last place to dwell on where our old baggage goes. So I’ll stop now. Oh, Detroit’s airport has a monorail.