I fly a lot. A lot lot. As I move above our earth in a metal cylinder I will occasionally have to visit one of the lavatories. I try to limit these visits since one of my worst travel memories involves me being curled into the fetal position on the pee soaked floor of a transcontinental flight, running a 102 degree fever and puking uncontrollably for over an hour – I am sure you understand my aversion… Anyway, the one thing that I have noticed on my occasional trips to the airplane potty is that the lighting over the mirrors in them is some of the most honest lighting I experience. It shows any blemish, scruff, tired eyes and all the road miles of life.

I am in the middle of of a particularly hectic three month long road-warrior-fest that involves over 70K miles of travel, 4 transcontinental flights, plans for a move to France, late night emergency aircraft repair calls, drama at my J-O-B, my daughter’s high school graduation, 5 countries, crappy food, sleepless nights, a bed bug incident, canceled/delayed flights, lost & pilfered luggage (who takes one shoe?!), a busted iPhone, and lots of jet lag.

On a flight from Seattle to Atlanta I took a long truthful look in the mirror as I washed my hands and I almost didn’t recognize myself: I was puffy, had sad tired eyes with dark circles, I was mortuary pale, and had deep creases on my forehead and eyes, and what were hints of laugh lines have now turned into deep canyons.

I whipped out the iPhone and snapped a couple of shots. Whether I like it or not, this is me today, a breath from 40. The truth of airplane lavatory lighting…