Seattle

I am in Seattle or "Shattel" as Filipinos unable to get rid of their accents pronounce it. It is not raining, which is a shock because it rains in Seattle all the time--every time I'm here, at least! The new wing of the airport is spectacular--floor to ceiling glass windows in grid design. The door man tells me that the cruise ship companies subsidized it because their passenger pick-up terminal is housed within the complex.

I'm staring at the Space Needle outside and thinking why many people rag on America and its crassness: the lack of culture; the junk food cuisine; the supersize mentality; their continued mutilation of the Queen's English (how 'ya doin' type of talk); and the premium put on entertainment to the subjugation of education and other, supposedly more important things.

Mother Teresa was quoted as saying, "Americans suffer from muchness and poverty of love..." She may be right but I look around this airport and when I see these defibrillators mounted on every hallway, when I hear ambulance sirens wailing on the streets responding to emergencies in under three minutes, I feel good I'm here.