GUAM OF THE DEAD
I lurch through my fourth airport in two days, headed towards the Republic of Palau (east of the Philippines).
"Congrats," my friend Stephanie Oswald mumbles. "We are now Guambies."
"Gumbies? Nothing flexible here after 17 hours of flight time..."
"No, GuAAAmbies. Like zombies, because almost everyone here is transiting the Pacific and half dead."
Aha. Maybe that's the excuse of an American baby-boomer, who leers at the lounge receptionist, "any hotels that rent by the hour here?"