“Excitement?” I asked. “You want ‘excitement’, Nazy? No problem. We’re going to New York.”

“Flying is not exciting,” Nazy responded.

“Flying with you is always exciting,” I replied as I surveyed the burgeoning pile of packed suitcases, boxes and..

“Carry-on’s?” I asked. “A carry-on, my dear, must be small enough to fit inside the airplane.”

Nazy glared.

“And, it’s not a carry-on if it’s too heavy to, eh, carry.”

Nazy frowned. And, ignoring the clear signs of potential martial disharmony, I continued.
“Unbelievably, Nazy, you have constructed a ‘carry-on’ that is heavy, bulky and fragile. Only a total moron would..”

Nazy’s frown began to dissolve into a scowl.

“ ... complain about the undoubted brilliance of your selections,” I concluded. Deftly. “But the brilliant selections won’t fit in the elevator,” I thought. Silently. “Do you have any friends with a crane?” I asked. Stupidly.

Fortuitously, we were booked business class on a jumbo jet. (Courtesy of frequent flyer miles.) A brief ceremony was spontaneously organized by airport security staff as we collected our voluminous belongings.

“Congratulations!” The uniformed agent intoned. “You have set the Zurich airport couples record for ‘most trays’.”

“Isn’t that great?” I thought as I looked for my belt, boots, digital camera, wallet, passport, house keys, iPad, MacBook, sport jacket, cowboy hat, coins and boarding pass. “See what you did,” I mumbled toward Nazy.

“I did?” Nazy replied. “I’m ready? What are you doing?”

Our Swiss flight was smooth and comfortable. We arrived on-time at Gate 74 - conveniently located in upper Connecticut near the Massachusetts border. The moving sidewalks didn’t. It took longer to walk from gate 74 to baggage claim than it took to fly from Zürich to JFK.

“Dan!” A reader interrupts. “You exaggerate.”

“Our luggage was waiting on claim 4 when we got there.” I reply.

“I stand corrected.”

We stayed on Times Square (Broadway and 47th Street). It was hot (100℉) and humid (100%) in New York, but our central location right next to the M&M’s store..

“M&M’s store?” Nazy interrupts. “We were on Broadway - in the theatre district and close to Restaurant Row on 46th Street. And you’re thinking about chocolate candy?” (“Of course, you could have stayed at the Millennium Hilton right next to the Century 21 discount shop,” Nazy thought.)

Our well-honed and practiced approach to intercontinental travel is to take a few restful days to adjust. Naturally, we ignored this approach. We were in New York and there was a lot to see and do. Sisters Sandi and Marjorie recommended the Broadway musical “Once”, so Nazy checked with the hotel concierge.

“Which flavor tastes best?” Nazy, standing next to a wall of M&M’s, asked.

“They all taste the same,” the clerk responded.

“You’re thinking of Jelly Belly beans,” I explained. Naturally we bought a colorful selection and a tee-shirt.

The domestic nature of fight to California precluded selection of a good airline. We had booked first class on United. We marveled at the rapid service level decay that accompanied United’s acquisition of Continental. We were turned away (by a surly clerk) at the business class lounge because, well, she was surly. Our flight, scheduled for a 7:29 departure, left somewhat late - and spent 90 minutes on the tarmac waiting for a take-off slot.

“You should have booked an earlier flight,” Nazy claimed as we waited for our luggage in Los Angeles.

“To what point?” I asked. “The 3:30PM, 5:30PM and 7:29PM Newark to LAX flights all arrived at the same time - after midnight.”

More on our California stay in the next edition.