| You Bet Travel is Broadening By Ogden Nash |
| Doctors tell me that some people wonder who they are,
they don�t know if they are Peter Pumpkin-eater or Priam, But I know who I am. My identity is no mystery to unravel, Because I know who I am, especially when I travel. I am he who lies either over or under the inevitable snores, I am he who the air conditioning is in conflict with whose pores, I am he whom the dear little old ladies who have left their pocketbooks on the bureau at home invari- ably approach, And he whom the argumentative tippler oozes in be- side though there are thirty empty seats in the coach. I am he who finds himself reading comics to some- body else�s children while the harassed mother attends to the youngest�s needs, Ending up with candy bar on the lapel of whose previ- ously faultless tweeds. I am he in the car full of students celebrating victory with instruments saxaphonic and ukulelean, And he who, speaking only English, is turned to for aid by the non-English-speaking alien. I am he who, finding himself the occupant of one Pull- man space that has been sold twice, next finds him- self playing Santa, Because it was sold the second time to an elderly in- valid, so there is no question about who is going to sit in the washroom from Philadelphia to Atlanta. I guess I am he who if he had his own private car Would be jockeyed into sharing the master bedroom with a man with a five-cent cigar. |