Much like the classic ballad that laments a person who’s heart is now marooned in northern california, I nearly created a similar situation when I left my mandolin at a check-in counter with Safi airlines. While I sprinted back to the counter just a few moments later, I was thinking, “This is why they hate us, because we just leave our stringed instruments all over the place.” I stopped to ask a random middle-eastern baby to forgive me and to kindly not grow up to view me and my kind as the great Satan. I don’t know if it will have the desired effect.
A few moments later, the baggage checker pulled me out of line to have me open up the mandolin. A guy I met in Denver told me that he had similar treatment when he traveled with his ukelele. They even went so far as to make him play a few chords to prove it wasn’t explosive. I’m glad they were only interested in the extra set of strings I had in the case, because if I’d been required to place some chords, I would have been in trouble because my playing brings down the house!
Yeah, ok then.
Hilarious! Good work on spread good cheer all over the world.