Live from Prague : The Fattened Foreigners

You used to be able to pick out the Americans in any crowd:

1. Jiggling a little chub
2. Wearing comfortable shoes
3. Loud talking
4. Rigged out in T-shirts featuring English words spelled correctly and clustered into phrases that actually make sense

Contemporaneously, indicators 1 & 2, not so much as telltale signs. Fat Europeans abound and they have discovered that double-D width sneakers and padded socks properly underpin the extra poundage. Gone are the days when Tom and I were the only ones taking on a six mile path up a mountain to some castle in sensible shoes while everybody else hauled ass in strappy sandles.

Blessed be for indicator 3. And 4. Holy truths even in these dubious times. You can hear we Americans coming across courtyards of cobblestones, our voices ringing above all others as we point out how unexpectedly short kings generally are, and how Joan Crawford and Yoko Ono share a lot in common. And for sure, we are not wearing T-shirts revealing hard facts like: "If you care how you look, then you wonderful," or shouting out to fans of the Orlando Pirates or Cleevaland.