Monday, June 19, 2006

Flight of the Condor

Hilariously, absurdly, ridiculously - we are a go for launch this Friday.

I suppose in retrospect maybe it was inevitable, that the call of this European World Cup would sound too loudly for me to resist. If it were not Condor Airlines that offered the steal of a ticket to Frankfurt from Halifax direct, stumbled across so innocently just 3 days ago, there would have been something else. With legendary Torsten Schadendorf ready and willing to host the celebrations in Berlin and a looming England v. Germany clash possible in the Round of 16 (dependent on tomorrow's games), the stage has been perfectly set. And everyone to a man told me to go for it when I raised the possibility in conversation over the weekend. What else to do but gulp, and hand the VISA over the counter quickly, to the hands of another and thus past the point of no return.

Magic. Yet there is, too, an attendant sadness that accompanies even the most joyous of such purchases. So many other magical, hypnotic cities that might otherwise be visited - those trips now indefinitely postponed by finite resources and the harsh chance of random occurrence. But no matter. The horizon remains long, with time aplenty for lost pilgrimages to be renewed and done well. In the mean time, we beat on, boats against...
Sunlight falls across the table from the window. INDY reaches for the drink. The bar of sunlight turns like the hand of a clock over the tabletop across the drinks.

We see INDY puzzled. Only for a moment.

INDY: "They're turning around. They're taking us back to Germany."
Heh. One more time it is.


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