Bad Cold by Shel Silverstein

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  This cold is too much for my shortsleeve. Go get me a Kleenex--and fast. I sniffle and wheeze And I'm ready to sneeze And I don't know how long I can last.... Atchoo--it's to wet for a kleenex, So bring me handkerchief, quick. It's--atchoo--no joke, Now the handkerchief's soaked. Hey, a dish towel just might do the trick. Atchoo--it's too much for bath towel. There never has been such a cold. I'll be better off With that big tablecloth, No--bring me the flag off the pole. Atchoo--bring the clothes from the closet, Atchaa--get the sheets from the bed, The drapes off the window, The rugs off the floor To soak up this cold in my head. Atchoo-- hurry down to the circus And ask if they'll lend you the tent. You say they said yes? Here it comes--Lord be blessed-- Here it is--Ah-kachoooo--there it went.

The Airport's A Jungle, I Tell Ya!

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Walked into this creative corridor in the Atlanta airport recently. Complete with the sounds of twittering birds.

I appreciate places like this because in all the hubbub of airport travel and the barrage of news channels (those stress me out more than travel itself), there are a few moments of quiet, soothing tones, soft lights. A place to de-stress.

No music, no noise but the sound of the People-mover.

Reminds me of Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam, where the escalator took passengers through softly psychedelic hallway.

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