Cold days at SLC always begin this way. You hurry out of the house so you can make it to the airport in plenty of time, then you hurry through the baggage check, wait anxiously in the security line, which takes an extra long time because there is a whole group of elderly people who drove down from Boise who all have to remove their sweatshirts before being screened--and their belts, and their shoes, and yes, sir, your belt, too--which allows you to arrive at the gate just in time to board a section or two after your assigned spot, so you have to stow your bag at the back (even though you're sitting in the second row), then you finally sit down, and turn open your air vent because you're sweating from hurrying around for the last three hours, and then you sit there on the tarmac. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting to have your plane de-iced.
This guy's got it good, though. The way he's dressed, it could be full summer. At JFK they stand in open buckets and try to bundle up against the cold and the backspray from the wash. This chap may have the AC going.
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