I Should Be . . .

 . . . picking up my bag at JFK airport right about now.

I'm not.

Snow, snow everywhere and not a flight to be had. When Ginger and I arrived at the Salt Lake City airport at 7:30 this morning, our flight to New York read Delayed. But only until 10:05. That actually changed to 9:40 for a few giddy moments that turned out to be the high point of the morning. Then it changed to 9:55. Then to 11:15.

At 9:30, they decided to let us board. Fortunately I was neither in first class nor in a rush--because when we were halfway down the jetway to our seats, we got turned around. JFK wouldn't let us take off and finally the cancellation ax fell.

Since we couldn't get into New York until tomorrow evening at the earliest, we've decided to rebook for a more propitious weekend--spring, perhaps. So much for New York pizza and New York cheesecake and Chinatown and the Met and the Cloisters and the independent bookstores. But the real loss is not seeing Patty and Suzanne.

I'm feeling glum.