Homesick

Barcelona’s amazing and our Europe trip continues to be thrilling. Yesterday, we went to the beach in Barceloneta and today I’m going to rent a bike and ride around to places a bit off the beaten track. The yoga studio I’m going to is great and everyone has been nice to us, with hardly any of the eye-rolling and smirking we’d get from waiters and salespeople in France.

But I’m starting to really miss Seattle, not so much so that I wish I were there but enough to feel some real longings for home and hearth.

Whatever foibles you may ascribe to the good old US of A (and there are many, starting right at the top with our clueless chief executive), there are at least two areas in which—at least as far I can tell—we have real reason to be proud.

First is ice: no other place we’ve visited manages to provide as consistent a supply of frozen water as does America the Beautiful. In France, you’re lucky to get one or two lonely cubes in your glass; here in Spain, you seem to get a few more pieces, but they tend to be smaller.

Second is plumbing: Things seem to have improved quite a bit since we visited years ago, but in France, at least, it’s still not that unusual to have to do your business in a hole, especially in cafes and small restaurants. At home, even our random 7-11 has a place to sit down.

And I guess I’d maybe add a third, one humorist David Sedaris has already pointed out in his book “Me Talk Pretty One Day.” The US still rules the world when it comes to people taking care of their dogs’ shit. At the train station the other day, Jen, in an act of great altruism, scoop a turd that was sitting on the train quaie, right in everybody’s way. A woman looked at here like she was crazy.