Do We Need Patented Sandwiches?

This one of those this thing leads to another. I was reading one of the computer newsletters I subscribe to where at the end they have some fun links to other articles. One such caught my attention, because, well honestly, because it mentioned peanut butter in the descriptor. Had it been ham and cheese, I could have passed it by. Peanut butter is like a five alarm fire drill. It needs my immediate attention.

The gist of the article is that someone "invented" a peanut butter pocket sandwich, patented, sold the patent, and now the corporation which owns it is going after anyone who dares to offer anything closely similar. If you want to read the full article, go here.

The two questions that come to mind, at least my mind are:

1. What are the limitations on corporate greed?

2. What happened to creativity? If we have to patent and copyright was is already in existence, have we lost our ability to be original?

Alternatively, if you did not know this, the rules for what is a corporation were created in England. The US in its toddler stages, adopted them. Corporations are in essence human beings in that they they as an entity can do anything a human being can do regarding any mode of commerce. The legal charge for any corporation is to produce and then increase profits for their stockholders. There are no ethical guidelines for how this is done. That is not to say that some corporations do not have ethical standards; however, legally it is not mandated for a corporation to have them in place. 

On a similar note, did you know that the "Happy Birthday" song is copyrighted? If you use it in film, television, or even some restaurants, you have to pay royalties for singing it. When we lived in California, one popular restaurant chain would bring out a cake and all of the staff would sing if it were your birthday. What they sang was not the traditional song, but rather one that sounded like a cowboy song used to herd horse while on meth. For the underlying reasons, read this.

What happened to community? What happened to sharing?

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The Angel and the Italian Breadcrumbs

I am not religious and certainly not a biblical person, but I do believe that angels walk among us. You may be familiar with the frequent rewards programs that airlines, hotels, even grocery stores run, but I bet you did not know about the Frequently Good to Others reward program. Some of you may know it as prosperity consciousness. Well, someone must have enrolled me in the Frequently Good to Others reward program, because I received multiple award presents on Wednesday.

The first and quite honestly, my favorite present was getting to spend a couple of hours with a vivacious lady. Okay, truth be told, she kind of lured me in with the promise of peanut butter and Italian breadcrumbs. However, I have to admit, once I met her the items she brought were the furthest thoughts on my mind. Ingrid was here on a tour and had a few hours before leaving for the airport. My offer was to tour her a bit around the city. 

Now one would think that having written two travel books on this city, this undertaking would be a breeze. Yet when you really don't know someone and have only a glimpse into what they have seen either by tour bus or arranged walks, it is difficult to plan. However, I managed to show her some tidbits that she had not previously discovered. My favorite mosaic is the Queen of Hungary and then the entry way to the Postal Museum, was also some objects of beauty I could share. We went to the Alexandra Bookstore in the Parisi Building to admire the restored murals of Karoly. Then we wandered to the Fészek Club to enjoy the trees in their outdoor garden where we had a drink accompanied by a continuation of engaging conversation. Ingrid has done extensive traveling, much of it independently which provided me with a healthy supply 'Vitamin I' intellectual nourishment. 

Ingrid had not seen any of the Stumble Stones the reminders that a Holocaust survivor had indeed existed. I brought her where I knew there were two side by side. From here we walked back to her hotel where we chatted a bit longer and she presented me with my gifts: three different types of Italian breadcrumbs and two jars of peanut butter. When you get gifts from an angel, it is truly a slice of heaven. 

Women like Ingrid, those that take life into their own hands and do not wait for others to lead the way, should consider writing for one of the Traveler's Tales women's books if they haven't already. Here is a sample. 

I am not sure who enrolled me in the Frequently Good to Others reward program, but I am certainly grateful for having met Ingrid. She alone would have been reward enough. She allowed me to take her picture, but not to publish. I am keeping it on my phone as a reminder of people being good to people, so if I ever meet you, I will show you a picture of Ingrid. 

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Multiple Thanks to Generous People

When I went to the university (classes don't start for another 2 weeks), there were two packages there for me. One was from Jennifer Norcross, a former Fulbright Exchange teacher from CT to Budapest. Jennifer knows my love of office things, so sent me colored Sharpies, a calendar for my classroom and a bag or Nestle chocolate and mint chips for baking. That won't be until I lose some of my "ONE YEAR as a NON-Smoker" blubber.


The real surprise was a package from Lisa Slay of Hearne, TX. That lovely sent me two large and heavy jars of peanut butter.  Fortunately, I could not find the cost of postage or my next vacation would be on a guilt trip.


Thank you generous ladies. You are so very appreciated.

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And God Said...

Right before he went into the hospital and passed away, my dear friend Rick sent me this graphic. He knew how much I love peanut butter. Not a day goes by that I don't think "I need to forward this to Rick. He will love this." And then I remember once again that he is no longer sitting in front of his computer. At least this will be my reminder of 40+ years of friendship.

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Salmonella Peanut Recall

Here is a product recall widget. You can check this for peanut products recalled by the FDA in the US.

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Fulbrighters

As you might know if you have read this blog, each August we reach out to the new Fulbrighters coming to Hungary from the States. This year, it is slim pickings as there are only 14 coming this semester and then another 16 in January. Most of the 14 arriving or having arrived are outside of Budapest, so our chances of being social are slim.

One Fulbright teacher exchange wrote me back after our initial welcome letter and we exchanged quite a few back and forth e-mails. She and her husband will be in the Balaton area.

She e-mailed me about a month ago stating that she and her husband wanted to splurge and stay with us for one night while in Budapest for a Fulbright meeting. She went on to say that with the poor exchange rates, this was an extravagance for them. I booked them, but asked that they not share the information that I agreed to the one night since this is really against our two night minimum policy.

When she wrote back pledging her silence, she commented "You seem like such a great person who gets along with everyone. Is there anyone you do not get along with?"

I decided to give here the really abbreviated short list. Why scare her off before meeting. : ) So, I responded simply "Yes, there are those who I don't get along with. Anyone who tries eating my peanut butter...and Republicans."

I have not heard from her since.

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Can You Make a Bomb from Fluff?

We were expecting two guests to arrive, a mother and daughter. They are Americans, but were arriving by train from Prague. I did not know it ahead of time, but the mother and I have a mutual friend. This was another of the e-mail notifications that was lost when the computer died, so we did not know their exact arrival time. At 2:30, I received an e-mail from Kelly the daughter stating she missed the train, to please tell her mother she would be on the next one. I thought this was strange. They were traveling together. There was no additional information to sort the puzzle. Later, Linda shows up at the door. Someone let her into the building. After introductions, she shares that she is a friend of my friend Bev. Then with confusion in her voice goes on to say, "My days have been filled with losses. Bev told me you love peanut butter and marshmallow fluff.|I brought you a jar, but that is the first thing they took away from me. Apparently, you can make a bomb out of marshmallow fluff. Then my luggage never arrived. I have been stuck with these clothes for the last three days. They are supposed to forward my luggage here." As it turned out, due to the lost luggage, Kelly made one more valiant attempt to return to the airport to try to recover it, but on her return, missed the train. In the meanwhile, Linda traveling on public transport, validated her ticket more than once and was caught by an inspector who found her overly validated ticket unreadable. She was fined $45.00 being too intimidated to fight back. Linda went off to puruse the city while waiting for Kelly to arrive. While she was gone, the phone rang and it was Malev Airlines stating they had the luggage for delivery and as soon as it cleared Customs, they would deliver it; however, they would call first. Minutes after I hung up the phone, the new guest in the other room asked if she could use the phone to reserve restaurants. No problem. After ten minutes of getting her business done, she returned the phone to the cradle. I was busy working on the computer, writing the Hungary chapter for the Frommer's Eastern Europe guide book. The phone rang! Expecting Malev again, I answered it. Rather I attempted futily to answer it. Successive attempts at pressing the answer button were disregarded by the phone forcing the call to go to voice mail. There was no message, just a hang up. Within a minute, the same thing repeated. A call came in, I could not get the phone to respond, voice mail and an hang-up. I knew it was Linda's luggage using a life line and calling a friend, only to be presumably ignored. Looking at Malev's website, I could only find two phone numbers. One for the Duna Club, the frequent flyer program and one for reservations. Using my cell phone since the now defunct regular phone would not access a dial tone, I called reservations in the hopes of getting a forwarding number to call for lost luggage. Voice mail in Hungarian was followed by a repeat in English. "To speak to someone in English, please press 2". I pressed 2 on the mobile, but the voice mail did not recognize it. I pressed again, but the initial message continued to repeat itself like a bad stuttering problem. I pressed 2, pressed 2, pressed 2, like a man possessed. What I eventually got was 22, which disconnected me from the system. Calling back again and start over had the same result. Two was just not making the tone that tittilated the system into action, but 22 was definite overstimulation. By the fifth attempt, I was able to claim a modicum of success and move on to the next level. This is where the youth outshine we older folk. Their thumb control is far advanced developed from video games, giving them superior powers. My nephews were always king of the universe while I was still trying to escape the dungeon when playing with them. They sadly left me to be eaten as they flew off to a level I could not even dream of. When I did navigate to the next branch of this phone tree, the message clearly stated for lost luggage press 1. Now we are getting somewhere. Press 1. Nothing. Press 1. Nothing. Press 1 harder like it will make a difference and the system will hear my added efforts of strengh in crushing down the key. The system was unimpressed. It would not budge beyond repeating my options with malicious joy that I was impotent to achieve any of them. My one last attempt scored an 11 and I was disconnected for the last time. Linda, I like you, but you will never see your luggage again. Go shopping. When Ron came home, he suggested I try his phone, a different model. He did not say, he would try his phone, but that I should. Like a miracle, it worked. I reached a living human being and to add miracle to miracle, she spoken English and gave me another number to call for the delivery service. Just when I thought I had grabbed the golden ring, I found I was on the wrong merry-go-round. I called the delivery service and tried explaining that the luggage had arrived, I had been called, they did verify the address, someone has been calling, but the phone was not working and I could not answer the phone. They must have thought no one was here, so they did not bother attempting the delivery. The lady on the other end said "Sorry, I no speak English well." Okay, one more time in monosyllables and s-l-o-w-l-y. That worked! She asked for the reference number. I turned to Linda and asked for the reference number. After a moment of silence, she whispered "Kelly has it with her. She took it to return to the airport." Without that number, my monolingual helper was helpless. The reference number are the keys to the kingdom. End of call. Hours later, Kelly arrived on the next train from Prague. I played the above game again, this time learning from my previous mistakes and scoring faster and reaching the upper echelons of levels with greater speed, but to no avail. I was told the luggage could be delivered at any time, but they could not understand they should call on my mobile and not the home phone. Grrr.... Good night everyone. Maybe the sandman and the luggage delivery man will show up hand in hand.

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Brunch for the Gang

Ron decided he was going to use my horded Bisquik for a Sunday brunch. He had invited Lynn and Nicole, both Fulbrighters as well as his museum buddy, Mark and his partner Chris. Now, normally, I am a generous person, but when I started to think about the amount of Bisquik this was going to consume...hmmmm.... Bisquick is not available here and it is such a diverse product. I have to beg people to bring it over, not to mention maple syrup. These are second and third on my Wish List after peanut butter. As it turned out, Mark was sick with the flu, Chris had to nurse him, so it was only Lynn and Nicole who came over. Ron made enough pancakes for Cesar's army. He had some with pecans and bananas and others plain. The ladies enjoyed themselves as did we, so after the initial casualty tally to my stock of goodies, I was able to relax and have nice relaxing Sunday with good company too.

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Rain, Rain, Go Away

The phone alarm was set for 9:00 am, but at 3 in the morning, the alert warning of an SMS pierced through the silence and my dreams. My immediate thought was that it could not be morning already, and it was not, just an SMS. It must have taken hours to reach me since it was from one of our booking agencies, yet they close at 11:00 pm. Delayed reaction in the phone service, I guess. In my sleep, I must have shut the alarm off in the process of reading the message, because it was off when I awoke at 10:15 this morning.

I felt like I was behind schedule, and then realized that I am on vacation and there is no schedule. I am alone and do not have to worry about anyone’s desires, but my own. Still I did not want to waste the day. I have this feeling that not being out in the city is a desecration of valuable time. The shower was uncooperative. There is a two dial system, one for water on and off, the other for hot water. The water went on fine, but there was no hot, just three degrees colder than iceberg. I could not force myself to the torture for more than two minutes, so my hair did not get washed.

Breakfast was similar to what we serve: coffee or tea, white and brown bread, three large slices of cheese, three of a lunch meat, peanut butter, and nutella. There were two Brits across from me, but they left shortly after I arrived, two women across and to the left of me, but they did not communicate except with each other. Two Americans wandered in and sat next to me, but were busy dishing two women they were traveling with, and one Brit single man on the end. Not much social intercourse happened outside of the established groups.

As circumstances would have it, rain was pouring down in buckets. The incentive for me to get out is to take pictures. However, when I have to consider juggling a camera and umbrella, my enthusiasm dwindles to nil. I took my time with breakfast, watched some news in my room, and headed out by 1:00. The sun was shining and it looked like it had never rained that morning.

Where to go, where to go, that was my decision for the morning. I had no idea. I decided to try the number 14 tram line, but started to get impatient waiting for it to arrive, so I walked the line instead. After walking about three tram stops, I decided it was not worth continuing. The outlook for something interesting was not promising. I turned back and went to Hard Rock Café to buy some pins. Walking the streets beyond the hotel, I found some interesting buildings. Since I love the architecture here, I was able to snap some shots.

I walked through the flower market and took some pics of the flowers for sale. This was insurance if I do not see what I hope at the tulip growing area. The water on the cellophane was either from the rain or they were freshly sprayed for freshness. Some of the colors are amazing.

From here it was on down to the Dam, where the Royal Palace is located toward the Central Station. As I approached the Dam, there was a demonstration in process. There was a woman giving a speech on two huge screens projecting her image from the stage. There were red and white balloons floating in the air, with words that escaped my understanding. As I was snapping pictures, a young man offered me a paper, but I said I could not read it. Then I questioned him about the purpose of what was happening. He explained it was a demonstration about illegal rent increases. When I responded that I thought it might have been something about the immigration issues, he smiled and said “Not this time.”

I walked to the Central Station and then was going to walk around it, but there is a highway there. I was in search of a coffee shop that my friend Earl and I found when he and I were here. I was turned around for a minute, but then realized where I needed to turn. It was about 45 minutes of walking that I found the coffee shop. It was filled with people and there was not a seat to be had. I kept walking for another 30 minutes before turning back to try again for a seat. When I returned, there were a few seats available. I had a picture of this coffee shop from the last time. They have one wall with built in containers of rainbow colors along the wall, each filled with coffee beans.

On the table, there was a flower arrangement. One of the lilies in the vase was just above my eye view, so the pollen falling out was obvious. It seemed like such an interesting shot to be called “Spilling the seed”. I took a couple of shots of it hoping one would turn out since it was such a close up. Then as I was looking up, I noticed the lily in bloom along side of a branch of a plant just getting ready to bud, seemed so significant that it needed to be photographed also.

From here I went to the Magna Shopping Center. The building looks like a royal building, so I am curious of its history. It is a splendid building and the last time I was in it was with Ron is 2001 when St. Nicholas was holding court for the children. Even without the Christmas décor, it is a magnificent building to spend some time in. A constant battle was playing out in my head. One side was saying well, you are not doing anything important, so why not go back to the hotel and read. The other side argued that the sun was shining, the air was clean, stay out and enjoy it. So, I walked, looked, and wandered down streets I had never explored, went into stores never ventured into, and checked out the urban shopping centers. It seems that you can learn much about a culture from their shopping centers. The architecture is usually unique, but also the stores that are housed in the center give the curious mind just how far globalization has spread. It pleased me that in these centers uncovered today, there were no stores that could be labeled American.

Thus far, my transportation pass has been more of an insurance policy than a useful tool. It has lived in my jacket pocket all day today, not once getting a chance to be displayed. For 9.30 Euros for 72 hours, it is not a great waste.

One discovery that was unexpected, especially for me was a church. Amongst the urban jungle of shops, full scale stores, and shopping centers, there is a Roman Catholic Church. I know I have passed by it dozens of times in past visits, not to mention the current one, but it has never called out to me before. Perhaps this is the first time the doors were open, I do not know, but I went in. As churches go, it is not outstandingly beautiful inside. It is rather plain and the statues look like cheap quality reproductions. The sign said that the renovations have just been completed, but the organ is still silenced, please donate to give it sound once again.

As I walked to the front, I found it curious that half of the church was filled with pews, while the rest has chairs toward the front. What really caught my eye was the stained glass on the left altar window. The colors sung out and I heard their call. Stained glass and mosaics always interest me. The altar was beautifully carved, but again there was nothing else to make this church distinguishable. Then I noticed a large board with note up toward the statues of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. The English explanation was that during the reformation, Holland followed and Catholicism was illegal. On the space where the church is currently, was a house where Catholics met clandestinely to worship. The only identifying fact was a street tile in front with a parrot on the tile. Hence, this church is named the Church of the Parrot and there is a parrot hanging in the back of the church.

On the way back to the hotel, the thought of fulfilling Ron’s wish of having an order of French fries with curry sauce, ran through my mind, so I went to my favorite place for them. Okay, check! That is done. Whew, what responsibilities are involved when traveling.

At 6:00, one side of me won the battle and returned all of me to the hotel for some reading and a nap. I conquered the hot water and had a long shower when I woke. Now it is 9:50 pm and I have yet to eat dinner. I was tempted to return to the Chinese all you can eat in one hour place that Ron and I ate at in 2001. It is still here and still you only get one hour to chow down, but at this late hour, they most likely are closed. There are a number of places with sandwiches and slices of pizza, so I will grab something. What has been interesting for me to observe about myself it that there are a number of places where normally I would love to stop to sample food, like the bagel shops. It seems that each time I come across one of these types of establishments, I question whether or not I am hungry, realize that I am not, and then move on. My only sampling today was an apple pastry in a cheese shop. Now I am hungry.

The plan for tomorrow is to find the tulips outside of Leiden.

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