Comments of the Day

I got two comments on my blog yesterday that I wanted to highlight.

First, on my post on my main blog titled People Are Generally Good, Paul Roales asks:

So does this mean you are going to stop stressing out about your passport as if it was the nuclear launch codes?

Indeed, Paul, indeed.

Second, on my post on my main blog titled Europe’s Assault on h2o, Kevin Wang comments that he experienced something similar when he was in Europe so did some research and came up with some interesting data that may explain my predicament.

Thanks guys.

You Must Be at Least 18 To Sit in an Exit Row

On RyanAir Dublin to Brussels the flight attendant had to police the exit row to make sure all passengers were at least 18 years old. There was a huge group of French speaking Belgian teens on-board, many of whom tried to sit in exit row. I was one of the first on-board, and had nicely settled into my exit seat without any questions. As the kids came on board the flight attendant had to ask each of them their age and check ID. After about 5-6 guys he looked at me and rolled his eyes. I winked. 18 year olds are such a pain to deal with.

European Gyms and Day Passes

I’ve visited four European gyms / workout facilities. Two accepted me, two didn’t. The two that didn’t did so because they don’t have “day passes” or guests. Why? Because they don’t want to be liable for any injury on their equipment. What a stupid policy. They should adopt the policy of the other gyms I’ve been to — and every gym in the States I’ve been to — which is to have guests / visitors sign away all their rights on a liability form, pay 10-15 euros, and let them in.

American Music Everywhere

The most visible cultural export from America is its music, I think. Everywhere I’ve gone I’ve heard the same great songs on European radios as I do back home. In one case, the music on the radio was better than that on my iPod. Oh, the humiliation.

I just wish the Europeans listened to more Backstreet Boys and N Sync!

Oh, You Must Want a Supersized Kit Kat Bar

It was 11:00 PM. I had just gotten into St. John’s Airport (New Foundland). It’s a tiny little airport, so no food options other than a newspaper outlet that had tons of candy. Ugh. I went for a kit-kat bar. The woman working the counter told me I could get the supersize kit-kat bar for just $.25 more. Are you kidding?! Of course I’ll supersize it. I’m American. I wonder if she makes that offer to every customer, or just we overly large giants from McDonald’s Land.

Written From: London Heathrow Airport, Waiting for Dublin Connection