I have skipped a lot in relaying these observations from Iraq, but one cannot write all the live long day as can friends of Dinah work on the railroad apparently. Baghdad to Amman had a new security feature, the bomb and dope dog. All of our luggage was lined up and Rin Tin Tin gave it the once over twice. I was glad there were no wink and a nod “special” tobacco purchases made at the hajji shop in my luggage.

Amman to Paris was nice enough, but we were scheduled for three hours in layover in Paris, so we were all preparing iPod, airport novel reading, or in my case, writing all of this. To reveal truly what I was thinking, the great event of the past hour was the arrival of second shift at the duty free Parfums et Cosmetiques section of that Parisian shopping center known the world over for its cutting edge haute couture, Gate E-74. Included in this ebb and flow of beautiful French girls was one above all others, truly a terrifying beauty. Epic.

It was three hours of seats designed to be unsleepable, separated at two foot intervals by crooked, steel armrests, and of such rise and run as to frustrate the slouch, the curl, or even the snuggy lean with rolled up fleecie as pillow. Cramped seats, airline quality prefab food in the terminal, dismissive agents, I can imagine an Air France announcement, “We have tried to feed you poorly, delay you, and subject you to searches of such duration and thoroughness that we should probably be giving you flowers and candy, but if there is anything else we can do to make your flight less comfortable, please let us know.

Right on cue. Our flight is delayed for another two hours. Balls!

I can just imagine. I know how much I despise the trip just to Albuquerque to visit my daughter and family.

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