The Archipelago

So Anders got me a moped. I know they look lame, but dear god they are fun to ride. Me driving a moped in Sweden is Step 1 in my diabolical plan to get my parent's permission to buy one. I mean how could they say no? In the midst of an environmental crisis it would be negligent to neglect fuel efficient vehicles like mopeds. And what cheap insurance! Surely there is no question. Not to mention Gabe and I are currently sharing a car, though we lead two incongruous lives. That was Step 2 in my diabolical plan. Yesterday Betty and I went over to Therese and Anders' house to pick it up. While Therese, Betty, and Bella sat in the cafe I putted around the area getting a feel for my future mode of transportation. Then I went into the cafe got a piece of delicious cheesecake and a CocaCola. And guess what? The CocaCola was in a glass bottle. Proof once again that every country except the U.S. understands how to package a CocaCola. So I am bringing the Swedish glass bottled CocaCola home with me. Then I followed Betty back to her house on the moped, since I didn't know the way. And I must say, it went off without a hitch. Today Betty, Therese, Bella and I took a boat by the sea through the archipelago. We went to an island, got some ice cream and soda, and walked through the lanes, passing by the summer houses of rich Swedes. When we got home I rode around on the moped some more, then watched a little Scrubs. Life is good.

The First Two Days in Sweden

On Sunday I stepped foot in Sweden for the first time. coming out from the baggage claim I saw my aunt Betty smiling and waving at me. We headed back to her and Celio's house in suburban Gothenburg. After a 2 hour nap to recover from the days travels, I went downstairs and saw my cousin Therese holding a little squirming bundle. That small bundle turned out to be my new first cousin once removed Isobel or Bella if you prefer. She is 4 months old, toothless and adorable. Looking at her I thought of that movie Children of Men and it made me sad to think so many fictional people never got to see a baby. Bella has soft brown hair, and huge brown eyes that seem astonished by everything in the big bright world. The next day Bella, Therese, Anders, and I went to Liseberg, a theme park in Gothenburg. Anders, Therese's boyfriend, is extremely fun to hang out with. He kind of reminds me of a guest star on Scrubs I saw, Lucas Douglas. I googled his name. We went on a couple of the rollercoasters that were there, and came out laughing each time. Anders and I pressed Therese to go on a ride similar to Supreme Scream at Knotts Berryfarm. She didn't come out laughing. And the whole time we were going on these rides, eating at Burger King and pushing through crowds little Bella didn't cry once, which I thought was pretty impressive. We went home, and I had a hard time getting to sleep. So I finally got up, sat down at the computer, and wrote the Spider Man post.

Spider Man

"We are cruising at an altitude of 35,000 feet." My cue. I head down the aisle. Whenever I tell someone I am a male flight attendant they nod their head, seguii using "so" and jerk the wheel of conversation to spare me the mortification. The reaction is understandable. People fear and despise the timelessness of the airplane. There is nowhere to go up in the air. No progress your life can make. No faults to fill in as you float suspended above the conceptual network of time. Maybe the temporary escape from so absorptive a system inítially attracted me. But as the 3rd party outsider to any human interaction aboard the plane, I found myself with power. And as Uncle Ben, the paternal figure in my favorite comic said "With great power comes great responsibility." So I swing from web to web, observing the flies bound by small slips of paper, and spin my social web as they wait to drop back into time. I continue slowly down the aisle and look to either side. Two teenagers sit next to eachother in aisle 17. They are boy and girl, and from the way they silently dance around the shared armrest I can tell they are strangers. The boy's bag intrudes on the girl's foot space and with the intrusion comes an opportunity to spin my web. I check the girl's behavior to make sure she notices the bag, and the boy appears oblivious. Perfect. "Excuse me sir." I say with a facade of politeness and contrition. "You're only allowed one space for your bag." "It's for the benefit of the passenger" I say with a pointed look at the girl. And with the finishing touch I walk to the back of the cabin to watch the flies wriggle. From my vantage point I see the boy tuck his arm in awkwardly from the armrest as a gesture of appeasement, and steal glances to his left. He knows she has a tendency to keep her displeasure under the radar. The bag was proof of that. And longer he stews in his own head the more his resentment grows. The only thing he knows about this girl is that she silently disapproves of everything he does. The plane begins to descend, and time flows back into the plane making the flies restless. The boy stuffs his carry-on bag roughly and stares out the window broodingly. I go into the bathroom and chuckle evilly to myself. If he only knew how I played him. If he only knew whose web it was that bound him.