Frogger

We got off the plane at Heathrow and, of course, immediately had to spend some significant quality time hobbling up and down the switchback aisles of the customs line. Excuse me, in England, it's called a cueue. The last time I waited in a line like this, there was a 2 minute roller-coaster at the end of it. I remarked to Mike that I think these lines should be conducted Frogger-style with alternating direction escalator walkways. If you're not familiar with Frogger, it's an old-school computer game in which you try to hop a little frog across a busy street, avoiding cars, which, inexplicably are traveling in opposite directions every other lane, and then across a river which, even more inexplicably, has four alternating currents and logging facilities at both ends of the river providing an ample supply of log rafts. (If they need logs over there... and they need logs over there... you'd think a phone call would save them a whole lot of trouble.) Also inexplicably, you are controlling the only frog in the world who doesn't know how to swim. The end goal is to hop safely into one of several caves on the far side of the river without being eaten by the alligator. (I suppose it's a metaphor for life.) My concept is similar, except without the busy street, the alternating-current river, the caves, or the alligator. It's not on any moral or practical grounds that these elements wouldn't be included, mind you - I think it would be rather interesting if all lines featured such perils - but it's rather due to the fact that I doubt the bureaucrats who devise such lines would find these features cost-effective. Anyway, the idea is to have alternating-direction escalator walkways (like OK GO on treadmills...) that you ride slowly until you reach one side or another, at which point, you step forward onto the next escalator, and ride the other way. In the case of going through customs, your objective would be to jump off of the final escalator into an open customs kiosk. If you miss, you have to try again. Sorry, Gramps.

For a few days before our departure, I myself resembled a frog. No, I wasn't covered in slime and warts, but I was relegated to hopping everywhere I went, and my left foot had turned green. Come to think of it, I think a kiss from a beautiful princess might have done me some good. Instead, I seem doomed to a slow recovery from the one-legged frog state. My mom had taken to calling me "Dufflepud" after the one-legged creatures found in Lewis' The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. At least "Dufflepud" sounds better than "invalid". I've come to realize that being a dufflepud on intercontinental flights has some considerable advantages. I was moved to bulkhead seating for both flights, and for this flight, from London to Nairobi, I'm sitting in premium economy class, and I understand what it means to be treated like royalty. I have a leather seat with a padded footrest. I was offered sparkling wine before takeoff. I was given a menu, with three meal choices (and while the food on our previous flight met the considerably low expectations of typical airline food, the food on this flight was quite good). More sparkling wine. A choice of brandy or Bailey's Irish Cream. I'm literally one row behind first class and their ridiculous diagonal full recliner seats, and about 10 one-footed hops from the first class lavatories, but even those privileged enough to fly premium economy are not permitted entry into the realm of the first class lords and ladies. So instead of 10 one-footed hops, it's about 40 yards to the nearest toilet, located in the middle of the regular economy class dungeon. I can't believe I have to share space with those people, even for a momentary trip to the latrine. That's no place for a frog prince.