Light observations

Having recently flown abroad, I noticed a phenomenon that had previously passed me by. Most passengers are now sporting an almost must-have accessory. 

As a result, you see lots of passengers walking around in the airport with glorified, cushioned toilet seats around their necks.

Now, I understand vertically challenged people needing to support their necks. After all, their necks (mine included) are expected to rest on the part of the seat that is designed for the backs of their taller counterparts.

I was, however, baffled to see tall people walking around with neck cushions as well. Who invited you to the party? I wondered. Then it dawned on me.

The reason is obvious - tall people need support to prevent their heads from lolling forward and bashing their chins on their knees. What with the limited leg room available. Dee-dums... bless their size 14 cotton socks.

Another thing I noticed, is a rather devil- may- care attitude towards sun exposure.

We were on a chartered flight to Goa and on our return flight, it was quite obvious that most had worshipped the hell out of the sun and had discovered a new colour in the process.

While I would not have been surprised with a Donald Trump shade of orange, I saw a tan that can only be described as a shade between beet red and burnt toast. 

Lest you think that the above mentioned President (and his ridiculous belief that global warming and damage to the ozone layer is a myth), has led to this reckless behaviour, let me put your mind at rest.

I overheard more than one person lament that they had fallen asleep due to the heady (and rather lethal) combination of Kingfisher beer and Feni.

Well, no pleasure without pain I guess and at least a good time was had by all.

Brexit, despite sounding like a remedy for constipation, has been practically motionless. The deadline has come and gone, leaving behind at least one casualty - poor old Theresa May.

She started by busting moves to 'Dancing Queen', then had to bend backward to 'Limbo Rock' and all that bending (in limbo) appears to have resulted in her somewhat resembling a hen.


Which makes me think of the story 'The Little Red Hen', where the hen asks for help with various tasks but the farmyard animals refuse and she says, 'then I'll do it myself'. 

Turns out, like the Red Hen, Mrs. May met with refusal from her farmyard animals...oops sorry, colleagues (easy mistake to make, considering all the braying that goes on in Parliament).

Unlike the Red Hen, our Blue Hen could not do it herself. Instead of a reward, all she managed was a new deadline - an extension to Halloween.

Brace yourselves for a scary Halloween. I envision Tay May in full black regalia, complete with wide brimmed hat, jumping on her broomstick, flying to Brussels to save the day.

Stranger things have happened....wooooohoooo........

Until next time, try and keep it light.