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If you go to Glenwood Springs Colorado make sure and see the gravesite of Doc Holliday. I went there with my cousins when I was a kid and it made an impression on me that we would go see the grave of an outlaw. If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is, infinite. Wiliam Blake

TigerLilly,You may have started a new genre in literature; Lost Luggage. The Lost Luggage Chronicles could be a collection of Lost Luggage short stories. I see a movie with lots of these stories; it could be a collection of movies about each story, or an avant- garde type of thing following each piece of luggage and the luggage is the main character, the people are merely supporting actors. If it was done in Hollywood it would involve a man and woman each getting each other’s luggage and then noticing they have it and meeting and falling in love, a romantic comedy. Or it could be a tale of espionage, I get the wrong luggage which contains the secrets of why the Rhino is mute and they send Owsley after me. Oh but maybe that is a subgenre, Wrong Luggage instead of Lost Luggage. If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is, infinite. Wiliam Blake

first, Doc Holliday is a folk hero of mine (yeah yeah he was a bad guy and all that - I know I know) so I always appreciate seeing a Doc reference! TL - I had a green canvas duffle bag that was supposed to go to NYC with me in 1984 when I flew from DC. My green bag had a great vacation without me, and ended up on one of the Virgin Islands, although I can't remember now which one. It was very strange to look at the airport tags when I finally got it back, to see where it'd been. May your little brown bag come safely to you soon!

This time it arrived in Sevilla WITH me, and quite likely in better shape than I did.********************************** Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone, you will still exist, but you have ceased to live. Samuel Clemens

has the bag set off for the latest Phil and Friends show, or Bobby's 60th birthday party :-) B- - - - - - - - - - - - - - Spanish Jam

was fine, but toothbrush was ruined by hand cream that leaked. But after such an adventure, I feel lucky that was the only mishap-and a minor one at that (was getting to be time for a new toothbrush anyhow) Croatia would surely be a more efficient location for my bag to end up than Denmark was. If it would go there, might be tempted to go after it myself! :-) ********************************** Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone, you will still exist, but you have ceased to live. Samuel Clemens

was the toothpaste ok? Croatia would be a nice place for the bag to this time :-)))))))))))))))))) Bob - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Spanish Jam

Glad to hear the good news of the Brown Bag's safe travel There and Back Again. The Dude Abides!

The woman spent three nights sleeping in her contact lenses, which did wonderful things for both her eyes and her mood. Unfortunately she was blind as a bat with no vision correction devices to aid her weak eyes. And contacts were so trashed from flying and sleeping, that she was afraid to take them out-that they would crumble in her hands, and then she would be able to see nothing at all. Of course her glasses were on the European travel adventure with the rest of the bag. As the woman was a "take charge of her life" kinda gal, she spent many hours on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday on the telephone. Talking to the poor, helpless baggage claim authorities in Frankfurt (who were VERY polite and understanding on the phone), squeezing money for new contacts out of Air Berlin airlines directly, attempting to reason with very rude Danish airport personnel, shrieking and throwing the phone when the Danish baggage retrieval authority telephone line made the following announcement every half hour when she called: "We are sorry, but due to an unusually heavy workload, we cannot take your call right now." Beep, beep, beep, beep (throwing the woman out of the telephone line) The woman's daughter spent the days reminding her mother how much she "really really wanted her new soccer shoes, and wasn't it a wonderful day to go out and kick". Her son kept telling the woman that her eyes were all red and runny, and wouldn't it be nice to be able to eat the octopus salad that was in the brown bag, and didn't the woman know how much he LOVED octopus salad, and what a special treat was floating around undeservedly in Denmark. In the meantime, Air Berlin told the woman that she should make a detailed list of all items in this wayward bag, and that Air Berlin would be so kind as to replace them on the 6th day of the little brown bag's solo adventure. The woman was NOT pleased at this idea, she did not want new things, but her own shabby little brown bag back. Her daughter was NOT pleased either, because she wanted the shoes that had been bought for her as a gift, and not replacement shoes. The woman's son said "Cool, you can make a really elaborate list, and get new shoes for ME too!" Little opportunist that he is. And then suddenly, on Saturday afternoon, and with no warning, the doorbell rang. The dog barked in the yard (her signal that was a strange adult in front of the door). The woman opened the gate to the yard to find a gigantic, bald-headed man standing there. A big scary-looking guy, who nevertheless had a very friendly expression on his face. A man who greeted the dog who was sniffing his crotch by then with "hey Du fines Tier, Du, bist Du ein lieber Kerl" (did notphase the dog's frantic crotch-sniffing one whit to be taken for a male dog, when she is not) and a man who was proudly clutching the woman's small brown bag. There was alot of rejoycing taking place in the woman's yard that moment. The woman was smiling. The big scary-looking bald headed man was smiling. The children were jumping up and down and trying to snatch the bag out of the man's hands. The dog stopped sniffing long enough to prance around and chase her tail (her version of celebrating) A quick examination was made of the bag's contents. None were missing, nor the worse for wear and tear. The little girl had tears of delight in her eyes when she had her new shoes in her hands. And the big, scary-looking man looked genuinly pleased with himself, and was enjoying the delight that his presence brought to the woman's yard. The woman sent him on his way with a nice tip, a handshake, and many smiles. The brown bag was covered with stickers in Danish, saying "rush" and things like that, but otherwise had nothing to tell about its big adventure, all alone in Copenhagen. The woman and the brown bag have to do this whole trip backwards again, very very early tomorrow morning, and the woman is somewhat concerned about what adventures might befall her small brown duffel bag THIS time. ********************************** Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone, you will still exist, but you have ceased to live. Samuel Clemens

GRTUD-to look for humor in distress. Keeps the abyss at bay sometimes. Will update the brown bag travelog when I know more.********************************** Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone, you will still exist, but you have ceased to live. Samuel Clemens