OJ

I would never in my right mind have guessed that 'Sinaas Appel Sap' translates to 'OJ' in Dutch.

Sinaas. Like sinus. Like infections and phlegm and snot.

Appel. Like the counterpart of orange.

And Sap! Like mushy-gushy romantic kitsch. Well, I guess Sap means juice in Norwegian, but REALLY, people. Sap?

Definately a Positive

Normally, I step into an elevator, squash myself into the corner, and stare fixedly at the ever-changing digital numbers displayed above the door. Avoiding the glances of my fellow sardines, I wait, wait, wait until the steel giants pry themselves open at my stop. I step out into fresh air, thankful to have rid myself of the thick, awkward silence that is characteristic of every elevator ride. And then I think of the poor suckers still inside and laugh.

But recently, I haven't had to do this.

It's simply amazing. I step into the elevator at work and strangers reveal their lives to me. Greetings are shared... and are meant! People (gasp!) smile. And make eye contact, introduce themselves, and then remember your name! It is a whole new world.

It is a whole new world and the writers of Elevator Etiquette would faint if they ever found out it exists.

How To Make a Dutch Bicycle

Take a regular old bike. Yours, mine, your brother's. Strip it of its gears and handbrakes. Revert to the pedal brakes you had as a kid; you know, the ones you hated because you could never slow the bike down when you walked it down that hill you feared. Add a baby seat in the back. And hell, add one in the front, too, along with one of those mini-windshields so as to keep the wind out of the darling child's face. Throw a pair of saddle bags over the back tire, strap a basket onto the front of the bike, and cover the chain with a metal guard to keep your pants from being patterned with little grey spots every morning. Your little reflectors are replaced with pedal-generated lights. And your chain lock is out-of-date compared to the Chinese grip lock that physically prevents your back tire from moving. (You may want to exchange that.) Buy a new little bell for the right handlebar... and while you're at it, attach a compass to the left one. Now stand back in awe.

Congratulations.

You have just turned your pitiful street bike into an all-purpose 3 person grocery-shopping mobile. And your pant legs aren't dirty. You superstar, you.