It pains me to admit I was wrong: we are not all pilgrims.
First I spotted the unpilgrim as he was waddling about the concourse in Dallas, all 300 pounds of him. Dressed in shorts, anklet white socks, white running shoes and a shirttail, untucked, that was long enough to provide nightshirt modesty. This fellow is about 50, plus or minus- so this is not some urban hiphop fashion statement.
The second time I spotted the unpilgrim was as he tossed his overstuffed carryon into the bin over my seat. So I was directly behind him the entire flight.
Then, after we’ve landed, taxied, waited for a jetway and begun to offload – a number of people have connecting flights – he holds up the entire coach class cabin while he stands in the aisle and puts on his shoes.
So, no, we’re not all pilgrims.