I’m still in LA, and the weather’s been utterly spectacular. Today is a travel day to northern California, so I’ll make this very brief.
The friends with whom I’m staying get the LA Times. It’s been a while since I’ve actually held a newspaper in my hand; six or seven years ago I transitioned to reading all my newpapers and periodicals online, and I only encounter the rare hard copy in airports or visiting friends, as I’m doing now.
There’s something I like about the actual newspaper, though; the ability to leisurely browse and look at each page, noticing smaller articles I otherwise would have missed.
Like today. On page A5 there’s an odd little item that caught my eye, a nearly-comic reversal of the far more ominous phenomenon of would-be suicide bombers caught and apprehended at the border because of bulges in their clothing:
A Palestinian woman wearing a strangely bulging robe was caught at the Gaza Strip-Egypt border trying to smuggle three baby crocodiles strapped to her waist, a border official said. The reptiles, their jaws tied shut, were apparently bound for a Gaza zoo, said Maria Telleria, a spokeswoman…”She looked strangely fat…”
The most I ever tried to smuggle across a border was some fruit from Arizona to California. And even then—decades ago—I felt so guilty I never tried again.