Waiting to Get There. Usually on the A/C/E in Chelsea, New York City.

As many know because I've been complaining incessantly, a large problem has beleaguered my very existence: there are no Swedish t-shirts. When I say "no Swedish t-shirts" I mean t-shirts I would actually wear. For the record, I would not wear a t-shirt with a giant Swedish flag emblazoned from neck to belly-button. First off, I would not wear anything emblazoned at that scale because I do not endeavor to look like a human lollipop with a head. Second off, I'm not Swedish.  Last year, I was in Sweden and the only T-shirts widely available were ones that said, "New York City." I did not find this advantageous in any way. At one point, I spied a mens t-shirt featuring the Gothenberg lion. Although it was kind of cool, I refused to purchase it because, first off, it said "Gothenberg" and not "Göteborg." As a rule, I do not purchase tourist gear. Second off, I'm not a man. After three years of pathetic online and offline shopping ...

photo credit  Consulate General of Sweden in New York Lots of feet, an ass, another ass, the sky, Andrew's ear, garbled polka music. "It's hard to frolic and take movies at the same time," complains Tom. He sadly deletes his footage of Swedish Midsummer 2014.  Inarguably it's difficult to capture a thousand swedes holding hands and hopping like little frogs of anarchy. Video simply cannot capture the full impact of the "no ears, no tail" reptile shout out.  One gripe: WHO EATS POTATO SALAD THREE FEET FROM A MIDSUMMER POLE? It's more dangerous than hang gliding or going to a hospital. Last year, I stepped in plate piled high with potato salad. It was an Extreme Ooze situation and treacherously slippery. I'll never forget the death glare of the ex potato-salad eating woman hunkered down nearby. After three hundred people skip over your potato salad, just maybe you think to yourself, "huh, perhaps I should not have plunked my a...

My entire knowledge of Istanbul came from the latest Rick Steves paperback. I easily know enough to author a facebook comment, even one in ALL CAPS. I am eminently qualified to spray my point of view globally. I've been thinking about circles since we returned from Turkey, where we had spent 6 days pillaging Istanbul with our eyeballs. Things that are Round in Istanbul Penmanship.  The old Arabic letters are inarguably round. And Turks favor a chubby, lovable font even today. Conversations.   Whirling Dervishes A chat or a sales pitch can spiral in a circular fashion.  This can go two ways. The discussion can be a kind of crowdsourced merry-go-round. Or it can be a lot of standing around with eyebrows raised while some whirling word dervish flattens a little patch of dry ground. Architecture. Aya Sofia Domes are round. Buildings sporting domes are also round. I read that Mohammed had blood made of divine light. Pictures of holy persona...