SCREAM DAY

Yesterday was International Bagpipe Day. Which may have accounted for the screaming. Naturally I missed it, because as a Dutch American all I care about is National Donut Day (first Friday in June) as well as National Doughnut Day (November 5th.). Reason being that besides scalping and corncob pipes, fried sweet circles are a Dutch American invention.
No, there won't be a parade of clog dancers down the main drag, thank heavens.

Saint Patrick's Day is coming up. Drunken fratboys, oh golly.
Parade down Market Street, Saturday March 14.
I'm going to miss that also.
Gratefully.


We Dutch also invented modern banking and international commerce. Dutch expansion in the tropical world was violent, and extremely successful. And we feel rather proud of what we acomplished. Sugar and fried objects probably had a lot to do with that.

Too many donuts lead to diabetes, heart disease, kidney failure, liver problems, swollen ankles, hyper-active Southern sherrifs, red state political violence, and morbidly obese people at theme parks shutting down the best rides.
Metal fatigue.

That's probably why we don't do parades with clog dancers.
Instead, we leave that to the Irish Americans.


You know, I am still baffled about pipe smoking being officially part of our intangible cultural heritage. Flower festivals, I can understand. Falconry too. While I lived there I was exposed to both of those.

Pipe smoking? Most Dutch pipe tobaccos are rather shitty. And some, vile beyond reason.

Besides, all of my classmates smoked dark shag handrolled cigarettes. The entire country reeked rather delightfully of Van Nelle, Samson, Drum, Dragon Superzwaar, Javaansche Jongens, and a number of other brands.


Early mornings in Autumn fog at the local coffee shop, or soggily waiting for the train on platform two? Ah, there's that comforting incense-like perfume. Late nights at the printing press, or bicycling down Stratum's Eind past the drunken Englishmen? A faint smoky hint. Early Spring sunshine in the Stad's Wandelpark, late lunch at Restaurant Kota Radja, the end of the school day? Time for a peukje, light up, relax. Fragrant zware shag.

It's raining and we're stuck here? Roll up a dark shag cigarette.
Oh hey, the rain has stopped. Time for another one.
Let's have coffee and a smoke.


A time, a place, an aroma.


One tobacconist in town stocked Balkan Sobranie pipe tobacco and Dunhill, plus Three Castles cigarettes. Fortunately he was located only three blocks from two local schools.
In case the teachers needed a break.
I stopped by every week.



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