Flashback 2009
Altitude 33,000 Feet

I was on a KLM 737 flying home to Zürich from Amsterdam. My ‘career’ had been disrupted by HP’s acquisition of Compaq (I could never understand why the impact on my life wasn’t more carefully reviewed during due-diligence process). Prudence dictated a move from corporate overhead into the revenue-generating part of the company. So, I had transferred from my comfortable, ill-defined, but clearly vanishing headquarters role into a focused position working with ING in The Netherlands. This meant that I flew to Amsterdam every Monday and back home every Friday.

In the interest of domestic harmony, I usually brought flowers with me on the journey home — and the normal tulips were replaced by Red Roses on special occasions like Valentine’s Day. This habit was noticed by KLM cabin staff. And then, one day:

Anouk, the lead purser on my flight, stopped at my seat (16D) — (exit row and aisle) with a gift.

“Dan,” she said. “This is a bottle of Champagne. It’s your wedding anniversary. Don’t forget!”

“Thanks!” I replied. Dumbfounded. “Perhaps I’m flying too much,” I thought.

End Flashback

Nazy and Tiger (with Tricycle)

In a shock to many who view the state as a haven for liberal godless fools, California prayers for rain have (enthusiastically) answered. Spillways unused for the last 10 years (no spill) were, it seems, also unmaintained for the last ten years. Snow pack in the High Sierra is the highest in years. Residents are ..

“Weary” I told Nazy. “This is getting tiresome.”

I was reminded of a visit to Memphis by Nazy’s Dad — who I always referred to as The Admiral. The day he arrived, we had 7 inches of rain in Memphis.

“Sorry about the rain,” I said. “I’m sure it will clear in a couple of days.”

“You don’t understand,” The Admiral replied. “This rain is what makes your country rich. You don’t appreciate it. Rain waters the plants, it brings life. Nature has blessed America with rain that makes the land rich. In my country, we don’t have rain like this. This rain is your wealth.”

There was another 7 inches of rain the following day. We drove downtown to the bluffs overlooking the well-behaved Mississippi River that, following established protocols, had flooded into Arkansas.

“You have a lot of rain here,” The Admiral observed. (I noticed that we couldn’t see the across the river.)

And, in fact, we had another 7 inches of rain the following day. I had been pumping water out of the swimming pool (and into the storm sewer) for three days. The grassland between the East and West sides of Interstate 40 looked like the Mississippi River (during normal times). Big trees washed into the river north of the city closed barge traffic. The local church was assembling pairs of animals. And..

“You have too much rain,” The Admiral concluded.

[Meanwhile, at the Big Sir, Melika and Tom were stuck. California Route 1 (the normal way home) was closed because of mudslides and the alternative, which required a back track north, was closed while a bridge was inspected.]

“You know what, Nazy?” I said after recalling this story. We called your father ‘The Admiral’ and we call Tom’s Dad ‘The Judge’. I think I need to be called something.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Nazy replied “I’m sure I can think of something to call you,” Nazy thought.

“How about: ‘The Professor’”? I repied.

“Darius has that wrapped, Dan.”

“The Professor Emeritus?”

“What about: The Windbag?”

“Hmm… maybe I don’t need a titled moniker, my dear.” I concluded. Bagless.

While I was considering my legacy, Tiger was playing with my MacBook Pro. He’s very fast on the keyboard (he likes to type the numbers, the alphabet and (especially) ampersands. I know he’s going to be a writer when he grows up because he’s really good with the delete key.

Unfortunately, his consumer electronics skills are not mature. He changed one of the apps on Nazy’s iPhone..

“.. into Chinese,” Nazy complained. “How did he do that?”

“I don’t know.” I replied.

“Can you change it back?”

“Of course.” I replied. “If I could read Chinese.” I thought, deciding on a delete and reload strategy.

“And, Dan, can you clean the chocolate, too? The touchscreen is sticky.”

And, finally, a judicial challenge that may require intervention by The Judge.

You may recall, from a recent issue of The Weekly Letter, my challenges with the front license plate on the car. I thought that the problem was resolved. We paid a $25 fine for the ticket in exchange for a promise to remediate the problem. We bought a personalized (NAZ DAN) license plate and had it installed. We did not, however, return to the courthouse with proof of correction. And as a result we got a letter from the DMV (Division of Motor Vehicles).

“Ah ha! They're suspending my license, Nazy. They say that they can also impound and sell the car. They want me to pay a $506 fine.” I explained after reading the letter. “And I’m being placed on the administration’s terrorist watch list.” I thought.

And, of course, young Arrow continues to astonish. He’s graduated from gurgling to chortling. He’s mastered the ability to pick up anything and stuff it in his mouth. He really, really, really likes to look at Tiger doing, well, anything.

For last week's letter, click here

Arrow, Feb 2017