One of my fondest memories of a long trip to Rome a decade ago was a lunch I
had in an unmarked cafe -- precise location temporary inaccessible in gray
(not Gray) matter. Consisted of whole fish -- about a dozen -- lightly and
delicately fried accompanied by a glass or two of red wine (vintage, vinter,
unknown). Despite my consipuously 'Murican travelling companions, who
sneered at the fixed pupils of the fish staring at them, I achieved a moment
or two free of the unshakeable tourist stigma. Of course, being tall, rather
fair, and blue-eyed I was still irretrievably "strange" (as the Italians are
so fond of saying).

On a less successful trip, I did manage to find myself fleeing Trafalgar
Square when I realized the tourists -- certainly dumber than pigeons -- were
feeding their lunches to avian rats, who were then crapping on them from the
trees above.

So, I stay in New York, scowl at tourists shuffling along the sidewalks,
pretend I didn't grow up hundreds of miles away, and sometimes wish I were
somewhere else.

Sign me,

Grumpy Old Man

-----Original Message-----
From: Donald B. White [mailto:[log in to unmask]]
Sent: Friday, January 14, 2000 12:55 PM
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: Re: Washington scaffoldment


To say nothing of the possibilities for ivy growth.

Tourists are dumber than pigeons. (I've lived in tourist-attractive towns
most of my life, the contempt just creeps in--when I travel I try to
resemble a tourist as little as possible, not always with success.) Might
need barbed wire. Although the plan might be for the tourists to be allowed
to climb this thing. Possibilities for retroactive population control. How
about:

"Bungee Jump Minneapolis!"

--Le Tour Eiffel