Home again

Home again, home again. Not a second too soon.

At the airport I found myself indulging in racial badinage with the local whites. Definately time to leave.

The check-in system, such as it was, was about as inefficient as you could imagine. 

I only said, thinking aloud, to the guy next to me: 

This is about as inefficient as you could imagine. 

He replied (speaking aloud):

Get used to it, that's normal these days, buddy. 

Then he gave me a knowing look. He didn't need need to give me a knowing look. I knew what he meant.

He meant:

It's inefficient  since these blacks got power.

I meant:

This is about as inefficient as you could imagine.  

As I dozed on the long journey home Robert Wyatt sang:

My duck is cooked, I waddle safely to the shore.

As is often the case, his meaning just eluded me. Nonetheless, it felt about right.