Meine Spielzeuggeschichte

Well it's five more days before I throw myself into a maelstrom of planes, trains and automobiles all to bring you the latest news from the International Toy Fair in Nuremberg or at least that's what I told them on my credential application.

I've my schedule pretty well sorted out after a last minute panic reading the small print (at my age everything is small print) on my airline ticket I noticed that the powers that be had planned for their entertainment a mad dash between connecting flights at JFK. Flashing images of OJ (pre that nasty throat slashing incident) hurtling through the airport lounge danced before my eyes until a last minute reroute through Boston calmed my nerves.

Returning from my visit to that scourge of independent booksellers I had in my hand suitable reading material for the next two weeks. Joseph Conrad's Secret Agent and two novels that take place on the Orient Express by Graham Green; one by that name and the other entitled Stamboul Train. Assuming I'll be spending part of my journey trying to remember my rusty German while reading all of the "material" I'm able to grab while impersonating a "bag lady" at the trade fair that should be sufficient. If not I've scheduled a trip to Foyles as well as grabbing any museum guide that should catch my fancy should do the trick.

On Friday I'll be returning from Orlando to my home in California trading in my summer clothes for the latest to come from the labs of North Face and Mountain Hardware, my camera backpack which if it were weighed would give my checked luggage a run for it's money, tickets, passes, vouchers, maps, guides, pills; must not forget my pills and other sorted what not.

To be continued ...