Home again, home again, hippity hop...

Well, as Mr. Wizard used to say on the old Tutor Turtle cartoons, “Drizzle, drazzle, drozzle drone; time for this one to come home.” After a long, long day (or two or three – I've lost track) we're in O'Hare Airport waiting for our flight back to Phoenix.

Weighing time at the Alkemaar cheese market

All in all, a most superior vacation. London feels like months ago already. We spent our last couple of days at a cheese market in Alkemaar, about a half-hour train ride from Amsterdam; cruising through several outdoor markets; chowing down on pickled herring; visiting one of our area's many coffeeshops for some, ummmmm, coffee; circling Amsterdam in a canalboat; visiting and having a couple of beers at the Heineken Experience (a big walkthrough commercial with a beer-fueled mini frat party at the end.); walking through the infamous red light district and chowing down on some excellent Indonesian food.

We came, we walked, we ate, we walked, we drank, we walked, and we came home. And now, we're back, experiencing the darker side of America's airports.

Walking through Chicago's O'Hare Airport, past the TSA workers with the minimum wage glaze in their eyes, you can't help but feel pity for the many unfortunate homeless people stretched out on the cold stone floors.

Wait a minute! They're not homeless! They're juice heads who've found open electrical outlets to plug in their computers, Ipods, phones and other devices that are particularly essential to bored-to-death travelers. At many airports, the outlets are plentiful. “Charging station here!! blare the signs at Dulles Airport and others. But O'Hare, with its fetid air of not-so-benign neglect and a thin, but noticeable film of scuzziness, is way short on necessary outlets. Some charging stations are hidden; some are invisible. So people huddle around floor sockets, looking for a hit of juice. One woman we met, who grabbed a piece of real estate and an outlet hidden behind a couple of trash cans, told us that people were plugging in their gadgets in the ladies room. “It's come to that,” she said. She considered it, but that's when she knew she had hit rock bottom.

On the other hand, the quest for voltage is a potentially great market opportunity for entrepreneurs who can't bring themselves to enter the drug trade or pimping, but are looking to capitalize on people's desperate need of a fix. Any fix!!

“Hey man! I got what'cha need here. You looking to get hooked up? I got 110 volts; I got 220. You need a converter – I got converters. First one's free. You ever do it with 4-socket power strip? I got what ya' need, baby.”

Okay, I gotta wrap up. There are a bunch of tough looking kids with Nintendo game systems in their hands giving me the stink eye, and I don't trust this neighborhood.” I gotta head home, and plug in there. Practice safe sockets.

You heading for O'Hare anytime soon? Bring a gas powered generator and a shotgun. The TSA people will never notice.