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Taking the plane back from LA to Alaska is a graphic lesson. In California the passengers are all, men and women, in business suits and pass back and forth in the aisle with not too much trouble. Then in Seattle they all get off and a different kind of human being boards: tall so that the overhead clearance is barely enough for some, wide enough that two cannot possibly pass in the aisle, and all wearing Carharts and wool shirts. Some beards, some not.

It was funny in LA. The hotel has some doormen, whatever you call them, to help carry your suitcase from the cab to the hotel. This one ran up and picked up my suitcase--about two inches--then set it down and looked for a hand truck. I didn't feel like waiting so picked up the case and walked into the hotel. He said something like, "Oh," and watched with his jaw kind of hanging slack. He wasn't that small, either, above average for LA.