I find myself making excuses for her. The things I said I didn’t like about New England – the cold, the wind – these things are here. But they seem somehow alright; seasons with Amsterdam seem so much more appealing and livable.
I am reminded of an ongoing conversation with a friend a long time ago – he had always carried on about how blondes were his thing – some of us sort of chuckled about it. Could it really matter that much? Then, one day, he fell for (and would later marry) this wonderful girl with dark hair. I said to him, “But, I thought you were all blonde, all the way?” He said, “fuck hair color, I’m in love, man!”
I’ve also noticed (since I pay attention to such things) the police profile here. They are very visible but not menacing. Because of my pet interest in the law of the land, I paid attention to their behavior a lot and their interactions with citizens. I saw warm, sensible, non-aggressive professionals helping citizens and visitors alike – and around their waists, stainless steel .380s and thick, aluminum handcuffs that looked like they came out of a James Bond film. The message seemed to be: follow my chill example and be a peaceful, open-minded person – or, pull a cock act and I’ll put a big hot cap in your ass. My inner libertine does not see this as schizophrenic.
Today – up early and hit a few museums. Too much, too fast – not enough time, at all, to do them justice. Van Gogh museum, Foam, Rijksmuseum, the Huis Marseille Museum for Photography.