and finally here….
I read somewhere that the most looked up word in on-line dictionaries for 2016 was “surreal.” I assume that was because of media commentary on the election. I, however, have the perfect use for that term, when trying to describe the 6/7th of January.
It started with a ride on the C train from Brooklyn to Penn Station. I stood next to three cops in full outfit, guns, cuffs and all. They complained that they were newly required to report each day about something that they had done well. One of them suggested that he had brought in a P&J sandwich instead of buying lunch. The led to a fervent discussion of the relative merits of jelly, jam and Nutella. It was agreed that Nutella is only favored by Italians. Our finest in blue.
The airport screeners confiscated my nifty nose spray. Terror comes from saline squirting crones….
Maybe next time I’ll fly with the birds. 
Waiting for my flight at Newark I sat in a restaurant with TV’s blaring the news about the Ft. Lauderdale shooting. At the table next to me was a father with 7 year or so son. He instructed the kid to dive under the table in case a man with a gun would come shooting. The kid did not even look up from his gameboy-Ninja-fighting.
Halfway into the flight, being seated, wouldn’t you know it, right next to the restrooms, a man keeled over in front of me, fainting. A paramedic and a doctor traveling tended to him, but they also brought this contraption with a long line and earphones from the cockpit, so a doctor on the ground could converse with the attending medic. It was pretty dramatic, but he was able to be helped back to his seat after a while.
Arriving in Amsterdam my connecting flight was canceled due to bad weather. Luckily I was dressed for it. (Just kidding.)
No flight to be had. It was to be the train across borders. I insinuated myself into the first-class lounge which has WIFI, with the sad tale of canceled flights and overseas travels. I guess looking like hell made them feel sorry for me.
The train ride took almost a third longer than the supposed 6 hour and could not stop at all stations due to downed trees from black ice. The minute we had crossed the border from Holland into Germany (with the 1995 Schengen agreement having gotten rid of border controls) the police entered the train and required passports from every non-white in sight. They took two people off the train immediately. Maybe they feed them Nutella.
Maybe next time I’ll send my self in a bottle.
S u r r e a l
European cities boast tremendous fountains as well, either in parks, or as part of architectural design – many of them hundreds of years old. I want to direct attention, though, to the less famous and less visible sources of water in European cities: wells and water pumps.
And sometimes whimsey:
