TRAVEL HERE; CHIHULY AT THE DALLAS ARBORETUM

An exciting new exhibition of contemporary art is coming to Dallas, but it won’t be at a museum or gallery. Instead, you’ll have to go to a garden.  Saturday morning I went to the Dallas Arboretum for a members event. Along with the number of pumpkins delivered for Autumn at the Arboretum and a list of the gardens being developed, I heard some fabulous news.

Chihuly Is Coming

This May, Dale Chihuly, glass blower extraordinaire, will install a major exhibition right here.  The great big Chihuly Studio semi’s will roll into Dallas with several huge pieces of his work and place them throughout the arboretum grounds.  If you know and love Chihuly the way I do, then you’re already thrilled.  If you don’t, then you are in for a real treat.

Dallasites are lucky, because we have a beautiful example of Chihuly’s glass mastery at the Dallas Museum of Art. The Hart Window is four stories tall and if you haven’t seen it, drop what you’re doing and go right now.  It won’t even cost you anything, because it’s right in the atrium before you get to the admissions desk.  (The free jazz concerts in the atrium on Thursday evenings are a great way to enjoy the masterpiece.)

To have Chihuly mount an exhibition in Dallas puts us on par with cities like Venice and London.  Some art snobs like to belittle Chihuly’s work, but just because the general public can appreciate an artist’s creations doesn’t demean it.  In their day, Michelangelo and da Vinci were pretty popular guys, too.

Other DABS News

Chihuly is not all that’s happening at the Arboretum.  During this week, fifty thousand pumpkins will be assembled into houses, floated in fountains and placed throughout the garden for Autumn at the Arboretum, which begins Sunday.  Along with the pumpkins, new fall annuals will be planted in all their glory.  You’ll want to see it.

Cool Thursday Concerts will continue through October and include everything from country singer/songwriter Max Stalling to a Bon  Jovi tribute.  If you want to make the concerts a really special evening, Restaurant DeGolyer, which is under-going a renovation of both its facilities and its menus, will have wine tastings on Thursday nights in October, too.

And pardon their dust, but two new gardens are underway.  In between the DeGolyer House and the Camp House, the new Red Maple Rill is nearing completion.  Those gorgeous red maples, in a wide ranging variety, will be highlighted along with new fountains, walks and flower beds.

If you’ve got kiddos, then take them for a play date at DABS’ Pioneer Village.  This feature is available for only a few more months and the sod house, teepee and other structures will be coming down.  But don’t fret, the kids are getting a larger more exciting garden.  Remember that foreboding bamboo forest down at the far end of the gardens – past the Camp House?  That bundle of bamboo will be replaced by the Children’s Adventure Garden.

Did you know the Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Society’s gardens are rated among the top twenty – not in the States – but in the WORLD?  MSN and others put them at number fourteen.  This alone makes the gardens worth a trip to Dallas, but Chihuly makes it a “must see.”  Come to Dallas and see our gardens.  If you live in Dallas and don’t have a membership, then this will be the year to join.

TRAVEL THERE: YES, I BUY THOSE SOUVENIR BOOKS WHEN I TRAVEL

What is your favorite type of souvenir to buy when you travel? Jewelry, clothing, Christmas ornaments and decorative boxes have come home with me from all over the world.  When I was a little girl, dolls were my favorite souvenir.  I have a denim jacket covered in travel pins which is sincerely coveted by someone each time I wear it.

Souvenirs of My Travel 

I try to focus my purchases on items which represent the handicrafts of a particular region;  carved wooden ornaments from Oberammergau, tole enamel work from Vienna and English porcelain.    One thing is for sure, if “souvenir of wherever” is stamped, embroidered or carved on it, it’s not going in my shopping bag.  I also look for “made in someplace else” tags and avoid them if I can.  I want authentic souvenirs.  The exception being souvenir books.  I can’t resist them.  I went over to my bookshelf and pulled off three random examples.

Finest Legends of the Rhine

The first is a 3X5 hardbound edition of “The Finest Legends of the Rhine” by Weihem Ruland, still in it’s dustcover.  It begins, “To-day we are deeply touched, as our forefathers must have been, at the recital of the boundless suffering and the overwhelming concatenation of sin and expiation in the lives of Recken and Frauen of the Nibelungen Legend.”  I don’t know about you, but my travel journals don’t sound like that.  Gracing the pages of the book are charming line drawings, illustrating scenes suggested by the legends.  Stuck between pages fourteen and fifteen is a decal from Oberammergau wishing me “Gute Fahrt.”  Yes, I’m glad I bought that book.

Great Escapes for the Tower of London

G. Abbot’s Great Escapes from The Tower of London was number two.  It’s a paperback, almost double the size of the Rhine Legends book, but about the same thickness.  The inside cover tells me the book was written by a Beefeater, Yeoman Warder Abbot.  This kindly Beefeater penned a poem to kick off each chapter, “A box of droughts is this the Tower of London./A whistling cage of weather/Set on the city’s edge.”  His entertaining narrative is highlighted with photographs he’s taken himself and historical drawings.

Footnotes of the Buckhorn

Finally, there’s the Centennial Edition of Footnotes of the Buckhorn.  I probably picked it up for a buck twenty five as I sipped an icy Lone Star Longneck in San Antonio’s old Buckhorn Saloon back in 1981.  The place has been gussied up since then.  It’s no wonder Fritz and Emile Toepperweins  put the little book together.  Their ancestors Ad and Plinky Toepperweins, who traveled as sharpshooters for Winchester, considered the Buckhorn their headquarters.  There’s a gallery dedicated to them in the Buckhorn Museum.  I know, not because I remember, but because Footnotes says so.

Amazon tells me I could get a new copy of Rulands book for $60, but several owners of the same book are willing to let it go for only a penny plus shipping.  If all I wanted to do was read it, I could do so for free at Kellscraft.com.  But none of these options would bring back the excitement of finding the little book in a gift shop decades ago.  I would have missed the memories it evoked anytime I reorganized my books or packed them for a move or unpacked them in one of my new homes.  Nor would I still have a “Gute Fahrt” sticker.

The Buckhorn book is the motherlode.  A new copy would cost $217.25.  I wonder how their new edition would compare to the pristine copy on my shelf.  Surely I could get more than a penny for it, because you can’t read it for free on the internet.

Yes, I’m glad to have my souvenir books and I wouldn’t sell them on Amazon, but if you’re interested, I could let the Tower book go for about $96, which is a hundred less than one available copy.  The next time I find myself in a gift shop in a strange city, I’ll probably buy a few more.  How about you?

TRAVEL HERE: WHAT A BUNCH OF BARBARIANS!

Newsflash: Genghis Khan has invaded Irving, Texas!!

There’s so much to do in the DFW Metroplex that keeping up with it all is a challenge.  I do my best to know what’s happening at the DMA and the Kimball, but beyond that, it’s catch as catch can.  My first clue that the Mongols were visiting locally was a sign on the side of a bus, but even then I had to google Genghis Khan to find him.

My Introduction to Genghis Khan

This was a show I knew I had to see.  Back in junior high I’d gotten in trouble for announcing in class that I was going to do a book report on Genghis Khan and the Mongol Horde.  Seems I didn’t pronounce the “d” hard enough and the teacher thought I was about to do a report on the sex life of a barbarian.  After this close brush with detention hall and an A+ on my book report, I didn’t think of Genghis again until late one night several years later, when I caught most of a movie where Omar Shariff played the wily Khan.  After that, nothing for decades.

The Exhibition

Yesterday Bill and I went to the Irving Arts Center to see Genghis Khan, The Exhibition.  Don’t let the venue fool you, this is a blockbuster show.  The artifacts range from a mummy to weaponry and clothing to ceramics.  Not only is it all very interesting to look at, but they’ve got all types of media to guide you through the exhibit.  Films depict life in Genghis Khan’s Mongolia.  Well written signs explain everything you see.  An actual ger, the traditional home of the nomadic Mongols, fills most of one gallery.  There are even docent stations to demonstrate many of the Mongol’s war implements.  One tyke catapulted a ping pong ball into the next gallery.

Some of my favorite pieces were elaborate costumes adopted by Genghis Khan’s progeny, which included the illustrious Kublai Khan.  There were also many artifacts with religious significance.  Looking back from this vantage point it is hard to draw lines between what is Chinese or Russian and what is Mongolian.

Perhaps the most charming exhibit is alive.  Three young Mongolians perform traditional folk dances every hour on the hour.  Their bright costumes, smiling faces and energetic gyrations were well worth the price of admission.

Yes, there is a gift shop and they have some lovely things.  The hardest to leave behind was a gorgeous man’s caftan, but it cost $250 and Bill is just not the caftan type.

Genghis Khan, The Exhibition will only be in Irving until the end of September.  Please pick a day and go.  You’ll be sorry if you don’t.  One word of warning:  I don’t care how hot it is outside, dress like you’re visiting the Artic.  The mummy likes it very cold and what the mummy wants, the mummy gets.

TRAVEL THERE: AROUND THE WORLD WITH RONALD MCDONALD

When you’re across the pond are you a “do as the Romans do” type or are you more interested in the next place you can get a Big Mac? I’m generally a “do as the Romans do” sort.

Strange Things I’ve Eaten

I’ve eaten tripe and a salad with sheep feet in Paris, enjoyed buffets in Egypt even when I couldn’t exactly identify what was on the platter and relished wheat cakes in The Potteries. Usually, every bite offers an exotic treat and I’m so glad I was brave. The sheep feet salad, which they called Salade Lyonnese, was the exception to prove the rule.

Favorite Meal EVER

What has been your favorite meal as you traveled in unfamiliar places?  Mine would be a meal I ate in Heidelberg, Germany.  Named Hirshgasse, because it was once a fencing school, it only served dinner, only had ten tables and only offered a single seating each evening.  I can’t even remember what I ate, only that from aperitif to hand-modeled chocolate swans, it was the best meal I’ve ever eaten.  A plate of peaches and cream served at the Copthorne Hotel south of London is the best dessert I’ve ever had.

Ronald’s Familiar Comfort Food

But every once and a while, even I get tired of being a tourist.  I want some comfort food.  When I’m in the good old US of A, I’m not a big fan of the Big Mac, but I’ll admit they do have the very best french fries of anyone in the world, anywhere.  French fries aside, I like Jack-in-the- Box’s Ultimate Cheeseburger or a Whataburger better.  However, take me on an exotic vacation and feed me strange food for about a week and a half and I’ll be looking for the Golden Arches.

If you’re planning any world travel in the near future, CreditSesame.com just published a list you might be interested in:

Big Mac-ronomics: What The Price of a Big Mac Reveals About Purchasing Power Around the World.

The list will tell you priciest place to buy a Big Mac is Norway:  $8.31.  In stark contrast to this 104% upcharge, India offers the cheapest Big Mac – a teeny tiny $1.65.   Imagine how many years you’d have to travel back in time to get an American Big Mac for $1.67.  I discovered a site that said Big Macs in the US cost $1.90 back in 1997.  Where will you eat your next Big Mac?

TRAVEL THERE: USING A BOOK FOR TRANSPORTATION

Do you have a favorite book that you like to travel with? I don’t mean a book that you like to take on trips with you. I mean one that takes you away with it.  I have an old favorite: Praise the Human Season by Don Robertson.  According to Wikipedia it’s just an also-ran among other more popular works by this author, but when you read the comments on Amazon, you have to wonder if there’s ever been a better book.  I’m with the commenters on Amazon.

My Favorite Road Trip Book

Praise the Human Season is a book about two elderly people who take off on a road trip without a destination.  Woven in between the their tales of the road are their memories of the past.  It’s hard to decide which is better, the road trip or the memories, but I’d like to recommend the premise of their road trip as a way to live.  They decided what the budget for the trip would be and withdrew the money from the bank.  When half the money was spent, they planned to head back home.  They took their cat along with them, because they had no idea when they’d return.

What a great way to travel!  On the first day of the trip they loaded up the car and then decided what direction to go.  Rather than head to the nearest amusement park, museum or popular attraction, they headed to a cemetery.  Now a cemetery might not be your idea of a great destination, but they had their reasons.  When they got there, they didn’t drive through and move on to the next entertainment.  They got out of the car, walked around and spoke to someone else who was there.  What a concept!  When was the last time you did something like that?  Today we’re more likely to sit in our car and text someone we already know.

Back on the road, though they’d already selected a direction of travel, they changed course when the wife recalled a relative who lived nearby.  On a whim!  Could you do that?  I find myself cutting down on my connections with people to satisfy my schedule.  I let the urgent block out the necessary.  Imagine tossing your schedule down the drain to visit someone who matters, but you haven’t seen in a while.

On the way to the relative, they see an old man next to a broken down car.  Instead of breezing past, they stopped and helped.  Now I know all about the trouble you can get into picking up hitchhikers.  I’m not suggesting we should throw caution to the wind, but what if the world had no Good Samaritans.  This being a book, the old man offered information critical to the plot.  The book couldn’t have gone on without him, but if we’re whizzing around our lives ignoring the people who need us, there’s a lot we might miss too.

The adventures continue and the end will break your heart, but it’s a read worth every minute you devote to it.  I suggest you get your hands on a copy.  I also suggest you travel through life with the same agenda as the protagonist.   Forgo the amusement park to visit a cemetery.  Talk to the people who wander through your life.  Don’t let your itinerary control you.  Be ready to take side trips.  Help people along the way. Above all, take your cat with you.  You’ll be glad you did.

TRAVEL THERE:  AMERICANS ABROAD

Happy Fourth of July! I love my country and I’m grateful to those who sacrificed to build this great nation. I’m particularly proud of the men and women who still serve in our military. How can we help but to throw back our shoulders and lift up our chests in pride?  For most Americans the Fourth of July is all about picnics and fireworks, but my favorite memory of this holiday happened on another continent.

Celebrating America, Over There

It was a gorgeous night.  Twinkling stars gamboled in an ultramarine sky.  Tall trees swayed in a soft breeze.  Red and white tablecloths covered wooden picnic tables.  But we weren’t lakeside at an American wienie roast.  We were in a German Beergarden.

Germans love to sing.  I’ve been in their country several times and I’m always amazed by how quickly they’ll break into song.  First one person will lift their voice and then they’ll be joined by everyone around.  On this particular night we were enjoying an songfest, along with some brats and brew.   We Americans had no idea what was being sung; we just knew it was lovely, so we clapped enthusiastically after every number.  After a few rousing choruses of German singing we tried to convey our appreciation in a hodge podge of gestures, English and badly pronounced German.  The Germans spoke English much better than we spoke German and they were soon insisting that we sing.

We compared notes and quickly discovered we shared little similarity in our musical tastes.  One American would throw out a song title only to get blank stares from the rest of the table.  Finally, someone said,”It’s the Fourth of July, we could sing something patriotic.”  Someone else said, “I think I know all the words to God Bless America.”  Another American said, “Yeah and then we can do the Star Spangled Banner.”

With fear and trepidation, Mr. God Bless America began singing and the rest of us joined in as we could.  By the chorus we were all well-tuned to one another and making a good performance of it.  Then, we stood as one and began to sing, “O-oh say can you see…”  By the time the bombs were bursting in air, the Germans around us began to stand one-by-one in honor of their visitors’ nation.  A crowd began to gather at the edge of the beer garden and people had come out to the balconies of a near by hotel.  After we musically declared America as the land of the free and the home of the brave, the crowd began to applaud and kept applauding for what seemed a very long time.

I’ll never forget that night.  The Star Spangled Banner is no longer just something I sing at football games.  Whenever I sing our national anthem, I remember the pride I felt at that shining moment, many years ago, in a faraway place.  I see people all over the world burn our flag and carry placards against us, but they are strangers on a TV screen.  For me, that night in Germany, the world was honoring America and Americans.  I’m proud to be an American.  Very proud.

TRAVEL HERE/TRAVEL THERE: FAVORITE FOUNTAINS FOR COOLING OFF

Where do you go when you want to beat the summer heat? Do you escape to a beach or go to the pool? It’s been a long time since I liked the way I looked in a swimsuit, so I search for alternative means of cooling off and one of the best is fountains. Here are three of my favorites.

The Frogs at DABS

In my home town of Dallas, my favorite fountain is the frogs at the Dallas Arboretum. The Arboretum is grand to visit anytime of the year. Gorgeous gardens, a beautiful historical home and stunning vistas of White Rock Lake are reasons enough to visit, but if it’s warm (and it usually is around here) no visit to the Arboretum is complete until you walk down Crape Myrtle Allee and enjoy the frog fountain. The gardens are full of lovely water features, but for cooling off, nothing beats the frogs.

Walt Disney World 

Another fountain-full place is Walt Disney World in Orlando, Florida; Epcot has my favorite fountain for cooling off. In the entry plaza sporadic spurts of water jump from one garden to the next. On the morning we arrived, I was too busy juggling handbags and cameras to even notice the fountains,but that evening as we exited we were enchanted by the serendipitous streams of water.  Children of every age and ethnicity were involved in a conspiracy to discover a pattern in the spurts, calling out “Here it comes,” when the fountain nearest them would shoot water from  their station to another.  It was the best show of the day.

Chicago’s Crown Fountain

Finally, I recommend Chicago, another destination with fountains to spare.  My favorite is Crown Fountain, just a few steps away from the famous chrome coffee bean.  Huge towers sport whimsical photographs of Chicago residents puckered to spew forth water.  Between the towers a reflecting pool serves as a waiting area for kids anticipating the next spurt from the towers.  The best way to enjoy the Fountain is while lunching al fresco at the Park Grill.

Where do you like to cool off?

TRAVEL THERE:  OLD BLACK & WHITE MOVIES ARE A TRIP!

Black and white movies transport me to places even a helicopter couldn’t reach. Watching old movies provided me an education in elegant travel. Decades passed before I realized the images wouldn’t translate into my life.

Road Trips in the Movies

Take road trips, for instance.  Everyone traveled in a convertible with the top down.  Their hair never mussed and the two happy couples suffered no difficulty in carrying on scintillating conversation.  Putting that aside, we arrive with our stars at their destination.  As the stars remove their luggage from the car, you’ll recognize two types of bags.  One is a rugged leather case and the other seems to be made of a woven material.  In the center of the woven case are three dark stripes, a thick one bordered by two thin ones.  You know what I’m talking about.  What’s really amazing is that each person has only one bag and everything they need is in there.

In the next scene, everyone has changed from their traveling clothes to some chic country attire.  Tweeds and cashmere dominate the wardrobe selections.  They’re gathered around a cozy fire with a gorgeous landscape peeking at them through huge picture windows.  Everyone holds a martini glass and the dialog reveals hints of underlying tension.

Then we’ll go to the country club.  Everyone in the movies belongs to the country club.  Tuxedos and ball-gowns replace tweed and cashmere.  Don’t ask me how the voluminous tulle skirts fit in that suitcase!  And how did they get their hair to do that?  Martini glasses remain ubiquitous.  Before the scene is over we’ll either have a fist-fight or someone will smooch someone they’re not supposed to in some alcove or maybe a moonlit balcony.

Back at the Cottage

If the movie is really racy we’ll get a peek in a bedroom, which will have twin beds, of course.  Mr. Star will be in bed with the covers modestly pulled to the middle of his chest and he’ll wear monogrammed pajamas.  Mrs. Star wears a satin peignoir and sits on a velvet covered ottoman before an elaborate dressing table brushing her hair.  Their conversation is pivotal to the plot.

Everyone dresses for breakfast and I don’t mean in sweats.  If there were not a maid serving toast in trays and eggs in cups, you might wonder how the ladies’ dresses and the men’s button down shirts looked so crisp, after the journey in the cramped suitcases.  But certainly this maid is not the only servant.  An entire cadre of domestics march just off camera and that’s how come a picnic lunch, complete with linens and crysta,l will be served out of a wicker basket in the next scene.  The gentleman will wear white and the woman a voile floral number.  We’ll have a swimming scene and probably some tennis, just for good measure.

Oh, you’ve seen this movie!  Then, you know there will be several more costume changes and a second automobile will magically appear, so that the once-happy quartet can drive home in unhappy pairs.  Didn’t you just love that movie?

TRAVEL THERE: DALLAS MUSEUM OF ART FEATURES MATISSE MASTERWORK THAT BEGAN AS A MISTAKE

The Dallas Museum of Art just re-installed one of their most popular pieces: Matisse’s Ivy in Flower, the model for a stained glass window.

Matisse’s Design Process

Matisse had a unique way of designing stained glass windows.  First he’d use water color to paint large pieces of paper and cut shapes out of the paper.  His assistants, usually lovely young women, would adhere the shapes to a huge canvas.  Then not unlike Vanna White turning over letters on Wheel of Fortune, the assistants would move the pieces around on the work at the direction of Matisse.  Not a bad way for an artist to spend the day.

The Work Follows a Long & Winding Road

The exhibit of Ivy in Flower has the unlikely name of Afterlife.  It’s a clever double entendre.  The piece was created as a model for a stained glass window for a mausoleum, but the mausoleum was never graced by the artist’s work.  The road this work took from from Matisse’s studio to the wall of the DMA was certainly a winding one, but thanks to that journey we can enjoy it today as one of Matisse’s masterpieces.

We can see it at the DMA, because of a well-written contract.  The French artist’s agent stipulated the American patron would pay $25,000 in advance for the design and the balance after the design was executed.  The patron paid, Matisse designed, the model was sent across the ocean to the patron and then it went in a drawer – at least figuratively.  Since the patron owned the design, they could do whatever they wanted to with it, but wherever it was, it was out of the public eye.

Dallas Museum of Contemporary Art

After Matisse died, his family asked for permission to use the model to create the window for another patron.  The American shipped the model to the family and when the window was created, the model was sent back to the patron.  It gets more interesting.  Dallas used to have something called the Dallas Museum for Contemporary Art and the Marcus’s of Neiman-Marcus fame were instrumental in procuring works for it.  Mrs. Marcus knew Matisse’s American patron, who just happened to be a Texan, and she convinced the patron to donate the work to the contemporary museum.

The work had found it’s way to a museum in Dallas, but it wasn’t the DMA we all know and love down on Ross Avenue. However, the burgeoning Contemporary Museum located on Cedar Springs joined forces with Dallas Museum of Fine Art which was out at Fair Park, in those days.  Ivy in Flower traveled across town.

I remember visiting the piece out at Fair Park back in the 60’s.  Today this popular piece spends more time in the vault than it does on the wall, to protect it from the kind of exposure that has already faded one side of the piece.  From Fair Park, Ivy in Flower moved down on Ross and that’s where you can see it now – if you hurry.  What was once a rejected commission is now considered a masterwork.

I suggest you make a visit to the DMA and see this wonderful piece.  It’s hanging in the Main Concourse across from the Center for Creative Connections until December 11th.  After that, it’s back to vault.

TRAVEL THERE: WHEN BAGGAGE CLAIM FAIL TO DELIVER

You don’t really know what kind of vacation you’re going to have until you’ve been to baggage claim. There have only been two instances in my travels when my luggage went astray, but they were humdingers.  This one was the worst.

Where’s the Wedding?

The first time my luggage went awry Bill and I were on our way to a wedding in Germany in 1994.  We’d only been married for about a month.  The bride was a flight attendant who was using her hard-earned comped flights to fly her guests to her wedding.  Guests would converge on New York from all over the US.  Limousines were engaged to fetch us from various airports and deliver us to JFK for a welcome party in a VIP lounge.  Then en masse we were to fly to Frankfurt.  All of this sounded much more glamorous than any itinerary I’d ever enjoyed.

Bill and I were to fly from Dallas to New York via a quick stop in Chicago to change planes.  In Chicago our second flight was cancelled because of weather in New York.  After a brief delay we were again en route, but we circled the Big Apple so many times the flight was diverted to Philadelphia for refueling.  Philly was flooded with diverted flights, forcing the airport to open a terminal which was being remodeled.  We were allowed off the plane, but everywhere we looked signs warned us we should have on hard hats and safety goggles.

We hadn’t eaten all day, but the terminal was under construction, so no vendors were operating.  Eventually, someone showed up with a food cart and we forked over $9 for one dry hot dog and a warm can of soda.  The line for the phone resembled a line for free Super Bowl tickets.  Yes, we still depended on pay phones back then, but there had been no reason for the melee.  We were there so long everyone on the plane could have phoned home in triplicate. When we got our turn, we checked our messages at home and heard from our bride that the weather was holding up outgoing flights, too.

Finally New York

Bill was already making noises about returning to Dallas, but I didn’t want to give up.  The bride and groom had invited us to tag along with them on a holiday jaunt after the ceremony.  How often do you get the chance to travel Germany with a native son?  We re-boarded the flight and it began to taxi, but in the middle of take off, the pilot aborted.  Night was coming and it began to rain.  The delay was only moments, but in those few moments I lost hope and began to cry.  When the plane lifted into the air, the event was anti-climatic.

New York may be a city that never sleeps, but after midnight, La Guardia has on its nightcap.  A garment bag with our wedding finery arrived in baggage claim, but nothing else for us and little for anyone else.  The baggage situation was so bad, the airline wasn’t even taking lost luggage claims.  We were given a card with a number to call the next day.  Our other piece of bad news was that our plane to Frankfurt, with all our friends on it, pulled away from the gate at JFK about three minutes after we landed at La Guardia.

Long Island Detour

There was drama involved in locating a hotel room and finding a cab driver to drive us to Long Island in the hours after midnight.  Once we arrived, everything, even pizza delivery, was closed and the vending machines were broken, so we never did get anything to eat.  However, thanks to several amazing miracles, by lunchtime we were at JFK with tickets to Amsterdam in our hands.  Yes, Amsterdam, not Frankfurt, but it was as close as we could get with the bride’s comped tickets.

Grateful to have tickets across the ocean, we began to tackle the luggage issue.  We knew we could replace what we needed in the way of clothes and toiletries in Germany, but we had another problem.  We didn’t know where to go. From Frankfurt, the wedding party traveled to the groom’s hometown somewhere in Northwestern Germany.  We didn’t have that address.

An invitation and a packet of information from the bride was packed away in our luggage, but our conversations with the luggage handlers hadn’t been very promising.  Remember, this was 1994.  We had mobile phones, but they only worked at home and there were certainly no smartphones.  Laptop computers weren’t exactly household items either.  We could have figured out a way to contact our friends if they were still in the US, but we didn’t have a clue about how to reach them in Germany.

Bill had the brilliant idea of calling the groom’s business, but the staff was less than forthcoming with information.  We understood their security concerns.  The groom was VP of US Operations for a German corporation.  Because the groom’s secretary knew Bill personally, she did give him a telephone number, but that was as far as she was willing to go.  We couldn’t call the number, because it was still the middle of the night there and since the bridal party had not arrived, no one at the house would speak English anyway.

Precious Possessions

It all boiled down to the luggage.  We needed to get our hands on the bride’s itinerary.  Bill laid down the law.  If our luggage were returned to us before our flight to Amsterdam, we’d go on.  If it wasn’t we were going back to Dallas.  We continued the semi-hourly calls we’d been making to baggage claim all day.  Finally, as the second of two very long days was turning to evening, we were told our luggage was on its way to JFK.

Imagine the glee we felt as I opened my suitcase.  On top of everything else lay the precious envelope.  Inside was a long list of activities, including explanations of German wedding traditions.  There was a letter from the bride thanking us for being a part of her wedding.  However, there was not one address or telephone number to be found.  This hadn’t registered with us as we’d pored over the packet in Dallas.  We thought we’d be with the bride and groom every step of the way.  The last item in the envelope was a beautiful formal invitation etched in silver ink.  Even as it occurred to me that the cathedral would be named on the invitation, I realized the curlicue font the bride had chosen rendered the words unreadable.  We could make out the bride and groom’s name and the traditional wording, because we were familiar with it, but everything else appeared to be in an elaborate code.

Well, we’d gotten our luggage, but it hadn’t done us much good.  We did fly to Amsterdam, but our travel woes were far from over.  However, we did have our luggage so I’ll save the rest for another time.  I hope you’ll take time to share your baggage claim woes with us in the comments.