Our Box

A silly post, to occupy us as we try to escape Cincinnati. (Booked on one flight, standby on another, delayed on both, waited on the tarmac, now have been banished back to the terminal…)

Having failed at trying to get here by plane, we embarked on a 8-hour road trip. Tried to rent a small car but were forcibly upgraded to a lovely silver Ford Flex – a vehicle which we came to affectionally call our Box.

We are wishing we had just kept a-driving the Box to Chicago instead of trusting United Airlines to whisk us there. And so, we submit this ode, with apologies to Gian Carlo, Amahl Boxand King Kaspar. Because it’s becoming obvious to us that we actually never travel without our Box…

“This is our box, this is our box.

We never travel without our box.

In the first door we keep our favorite things. One umbrella against all clouds and rainy skies. One suitcase with equipment. One rain coat to keep us warm. One video cam’ra to remember your face. One EZ Pass to get us through tolls. Three sunglasses to soothe our eyes. One GPS to protect us from b’ing lost.

This is our box, this is our box. We never travel without our box. In the second door we keep all our food. Oh, how can we love to eat great food, all kinds of food.

This is our box, this is our box. We never travel without our box. In the third door… in the third door…Oh, my dear friends!…Oh, my dear friends!…In the third door we keep…coffee…coffee… black, sweet coffee, black, sweet, coffee…

Have some!”

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