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Some words on "getting there":
Mike and I took an Uber at 4 am to the airport. We had a nice driver, from Uganda. When he first opened the hatch back to put in my luggage, rap-type music blared into the street, accidentally. He was very apologetic and turned it off. When Mike and I were in the car, rolling on our 8-minute drive to SLC International, he put the most insipid easy listenening music on. LOL. We couldn't stand it. "Please put on some you like," we pleaded.
At the airport, the agent checking us in spent waaay too much time trying to sell us on some Delta status upgrade package for me, saying I should have my own. This only resulted in my confussion, and frustration after-the-fact, and a long line behind us where there had been none.
In the Delta lounge I was struck by the demographic differences/divisions between the partons and the staff: All patrons were white and none of the low-level staff seemed to be. We had a layover in Atlanta where the observation of demographic differences seemed even more pronounced. This because a sort of theme of the trip, for me.