Tuesday, 19 September 2023

A PILOT'S TRUE STORY of 9/11


A PILOT'S TRUE STORY of 9/11
(by Jeff Fellmeth Retired American Airlines Pilot)

Just one story... thank you Jeff!
Most of you know that I was a pilot for American Airlines and on 9-11-01 I was flying a Boeing 767 (same type that hit the Twin Towers) from Caracas, Venezuela to NY.
We had left Caracas at 8 am, so we had no idea what was going on until we reached the radar controlled airspace surrounding Puerto Rico. The air traffic controller would only tell that JFK was closed and we needed to contact our company. When we queried the controller about why the airport was closed, he responded “I can’t tell you over an open frequency.” The Captain & I are both retired Air Force pilots and those words sent a huge chill through both of us.
So, we then used the satellite phone in the cockpit to contact American Airlines in Dallas. The Dispatcher in Dallas only told us that 2 airplanes had flown into the World Trade Centre Towers and that we should divert to Miami. HE DID NOT tell us the planes were airliners or that one of the planes was an American flight.
We immediately knew it was some kind of attack, but NEVER dreamed it was airliners; rather we were thinking light aircraft out of one of the numerous northern NJ airports.
The only other communication we received from the company was a message telling us that NOT EVEN the Flight Attendants were to be allowed in the cockpit. Well, after that message the crash axe was in my lap for the remainder of the flight.
We elected to NOT tell anyone on board we were diverting to Miami, not even the Flight Attendants. As far as anyone on board knew we were on our way to NY.
About halfway between Puerto Rico and Miami, Miami Air Traffic Control transmitted the following: “ALL US AIRSPACE IS CLOSED! I WILL CALL YOU BACK SHORTLY TO FIND OUT WHERE YOU WANT TO LAND OUTSIDE OF THE US.” He then began contacting individual flights and sending them to numerous airports all over the Caribbean, Central and South America.
After about 15-20 minutes of him diverting planes the controller announced that 3 flights would be allowed to land in Miami. We were first, followed by a Continental flight 30 minutes behind and then an American flight 1 hour behind. To my knowledge, these were the last 3 flights to land at Miami that day and were probably some of the last flights to enter US airspace.
Miami International is an extremely busy airport and the skies around Miami are normally full of aircraft and the accompanying radio chatter, but not when we arrived. When we checked in with Miami Approach Control there was an eerie silence as we were the ONLY aircraft in their airspace. The tension in the cockpit was pretty thick at this point since even at 3 in the morning you usually aren’t alone with Miami Approach. Our approach was pretty uneventful until about 4 miles out from landing when our flaps malfunctioned. We didn’t dare go around at this point to run our checklist; we simply took what we had for flaps and landed on the north runway at Miami.
Now came the real shock. The north side of the Miami airport is a HUGE parking area used mainly by cargo and charter aircraft. Well, on 9/11 the north ramp was covered with more airplanes than I had ever seen! They were packed in like sardines and for any of you who have been to the military and civilian aircraft storage facilities in AZ, well, this was tighter! Up again went the pucker factor!
Our flap malfunction prevented us from retracting our flaps after landing which, before 9-11, was a HUGE PROBLEM for us. To taxi into the parking area with your flaps down was a signal to ground personnel that you were being HIJACKED and wanted ARMED INTERVENTION NOW!!!!! I’m thinking this as I look to my left and see all those jets crammed together so as we clear the runway the first word out of my mouth are “GROUND, AMERICAN 936 IS CLEAR OF RUNWAY 09 LEFT AND OUR FLAPS ARE DOWN BECAUSE THEY’RE BROKE!” (Yes, I was yelling.)
Somehow we were given a gate to park at and as we pulled up the Captain made a PA to the passengers telling them the little we know. “Ladies and Gentleman, some of you may have realized by looking outside or at your watches that this I not New York….” He then told all the passengers to remain seated until we had a chance to talk to the agents meeting the flight.
Now, you must remember, we still don’t know that commercial airlines have been used in this attack, nor do we know about the Pentagon of Flight 93 in PA.
The agent came on board and made a PA informing the passengers and the crew of the events and now for the first time we know of the devastation in NY as by this time both towers were down. You could have heard a pin drop.
On the home front, my wife and children (14, 9, and 6) have NO idea where I am, only that I’m supposed to be home that afternoon. When I turn on my cell phone there’s a tear filled voicemail from my wife wondering where I am or even IF I am, but because of the phone system where she worked I can’t reach her. I do contact the grade school for my 2 younger kids and when I tell the secretary that I’m a pilot for American Airlines she just lost it!
My kids expected me home that day and I asked her to contact them at the end of the school day (they hadn’t told the kids about the attacks) that I was ok and in Miami. She also contacted the High School for me where a Guidance Counselor went to my oldest daughter’s class. Needless to say having Guidance come to your room looking for you while watching aircraft like your Dad’s crash is pretty intense for a 16 year old. I think she had it worse than I did since I knew I was ok.
I finally did get a hold of Debbie, my parents, and in-laws but I couldn’t tell them much except I was in Miami for a while and didn’t even know where I was going to be staying.
It took a couple of hours but we ended up at our normal layover hotel in Miami Beach where I spent the next 5 days watching the F-15’s fly up and down the beach wishing I was back with them (I had only been retired for a year).
I finally got home Saturday night around midnight and spent Sunday close to my family. Monday morning found me on my way back to JFK for my next flight. My normal 2-2 ½ hour drive took 4 hours that Monday and crossing over the Verrazano Narrows Bridge was truly humbling.
The Twin Towers were the dominant feature of Manhattan, especially the lower end and the Verrazano offers a beautiful view of NY harbour and lower Manhattan. Six days later, the fire was still burning, smoke was still rising from Ground Zero plus there was this huge gap in the buildings where the Towers had been. Now, 20 years later, I still look and miss the sight of the World Trade Centre.
Will I ever forget? NEVER! Every time I go to work I think about what happened that day and wonder when they’ll try it again and will I be ready.
I will always remember that day, where I was, what I and my family went though and I will always remind others of what happened that day and what it means to me, my freedom, and my way of life.

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JUST ONE MORE BOOK MOM


JUST ONE MORE BOOK MOM
(author unknown)

“Can we read just one last book, Mom?”
My girl looked up at me with a doe-eyed pleading that she knew I couldn’t refuse.
I was exhausted.
The day’s work wasn’t nearly done.
There was laundry that needed to be turned over and dishes crusting away in the sink.
Emails to be sent.
Bills to be paid.
I knew if I lay down for another story, I’d be too spent to get anything else done.
But.
I decided that her request was more important than all of that.
Settling in beside her, she nuzzled against my chest.
I rested my chin on her hairline and ran my fingers over her braids, damp and warm.
She loved waking up with wild waves, and I was happy that she still asked me to weave her hair into place.
As I breathed in her softness, I remembered all the advice I’d heard since I became a mother:
“Sleep when they sleep.”
“Feed them what you eat.”
“Read to them every night.”
“Enjoy every moment.”
“Be honest.”
“Teach kindness.”
“Give grace.”
“Don’t blink.“
… and so on.
All great advice.
All things I took to heart.
But then I remembered the one piece of advice that really struck a chord.
“Do it as if it’s the last time…”
And, man… as a mother, as a human… that’s been the one piece of advice that’s made me Live.
Something in the way she said, “one last book…” reminded me.
I had no way of knowing if it really would be the last time she’d ask.
And the truth is, you never know.
I never knew it would be the last time he’d fall asleep on my chest.
I never knew it would be the last time she asked for a bedtime song.
I never knew it would be the last time we’d all eat waffles together on the front porch.
I never knew it would be last time I walked him to the bus stop.
I never knew it would be the last time she’d want me to play hide and seek.
I never knew it would be the last time we danced in the kitchen to their favorite songs.
I never knew it would be the last time he wanted me to stay for practice.
I never knew it would be the last time she asked me to braid her hair.
I never knew it would be the last time he wanted me to pick out his shoes.
I never knew it would be the last time she liked me to lay out her dress for school.
I never knew it would to be the last time I saw him on the pitcher’s mound.
I never knew it would be the last time she’d want to lace up her cleats.
I never knew it would be the last time I’d be taking them to the field.
I never knew it would be the last time I’d have rowdy boys in my backseat before they all had their license.
I never knew it would be the last time I’d be invited to join her slumber parties.
I never knew it would be the last time… until there was no next time.
So, as much as I can.
I’ll take an extra moment.
Look around.
Breathe it in.
Press pause on everything else.
And do it like it could be.
Tomorrow isn’t promised, friends.
Let’s do it like today, like right here, right now…
Could be the last time.

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Monday, 18 September 2023

THE RICH WOMAN, AND THE POOR OLD MAN

THE RICH WOMAN, AND THE POOR OLD MAN
(author unknown)

A rich young woman sat beside a poor elderly man on a plane. She alerted the flight attendant upon taking her seat.
The flight attendant answered warmly, when the woman abruptly said, “Please find me another seat immediately.” The flight attendant responded, “I’m sorry Ma’am, but the economy cabin is fully booked.”
The rich woman replied, “But I’m not going to travel beside a worthless bum. Do something.”
While the elderly man stared in disbelief, the flight attendant responded, “I’ll talk to the Captain about this.”
The flight attendant went to the Captain and asked, “Captain, a woman feels uncomfortable sitting beside a poor elder man. What should we do?”
Surprisingly, the Captain’s face changed. He looked amused and said, “This woman is interesting. I’ve never encountered an issue like this before. I have a plan. Listen..”
And the Captain relayed to the flight attendant what he wants to do. The flight attendant was stunned at his plan. In fact, she was amazed.
A few minutes later, the flight attendant returned. “The Captain said we could use an open seat in First Class. He also wants to apologize for having to travel with such a terrible person.”
As the woman rose out of her seat, the flight attendant reached out her arm towards the poor elderly man. “Sir will you please follow me?” To which the plane applauded.
Never look down on other people. We are all equal in God’s sight. Regardless of what you have achieved in life, stay humble. Keep your feet on the ground. The bad news is time flies. The good news is you’re the pilot.

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WHEN THINGS LOOK THEIR DARKEST


WHEN THINGS LOOK THEIR DARKEST
(author unknown)

Mark Twain held a pistol to his head.
But he couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger.
So, he put down the pistol and picked up a pen…
Many textbooks portray Mark Twain as poised, self-assured, and composed.
However, the Twain described in writings from 1865 and 1866 is far from that man…
At this time, Twain was living in San Francisco and earning $100 a month writing 2,000-word columns, 6 days a week for a newspaper called the Territorial Enterprise.
The 29-year-old Twain was struggling immensely. He was drowning in debt. The local pawnshops owned nearly all his possessions.
In a letter from 1865, he wrote to his brother:
“If I do not get out of debt in three months – pistols or poison for one – exit me,”
And he nearly took the first option.
There are many stories about what exactly made him change his mind:
One story describes how his eyes met a bill for coal he had received. The wording on the bill was so peculiar for such a low sum of requested money that it made him do a double take. It supposedly brought about a chuckle and he reflected on the oddity of life, putting down his pistol.
Some accounts claim that when he brought the pistol to his head, he couldn’t bear to pull the trigger out of his thoughts of cowardice.
Whatever the truth may be, we do know that the great literary figure had some very dark days in his lonely San Francisco apartment…
Shortly after this incident, Twain hit his first home run. He finally leaned into his inclinations of humour with The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calavera's County.
It was a humorous work and was published by the New York Saturday Press on November 18, 1865. It brought him his first taste of international fame.
And the rest is history!
USEFUL KNOWLEDGE:
- The Brightest days often come right after the darkest nights.
Life is very strange. In many ways, it is like a video game, in the sense that it is full of tests. Things get extremely hard in life and as long as you hang on and keep pushing, you will make a breakthrough and get to the next level. It's always hardest right before a significant breakthrough. Then things are great for a while but eventually, the pattern repeats itself. The tests vary in difficulty but they all push the individual to ascend to higher levels of consciousness and character.
This story of Twain’s dark days displays the idea perfectly. He was in just about the lowest place a person can be, yet he didn’t let go of himself and as a result, very quickly got his first big win.
I’m sure you can relate to this story in some way - reflecting on your own difficult times. Hopefully, the video game analogy provides you with a greater awareness of the pattern.
So, when things get dark, hold on, keep pushing and bright daylight will come soon enough.


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42 LESSONS OF LIFE


42 LESSONS OF LIFE
(author Regina Brett)

It is something we should all read at least once a week! Make sure you read to the end!
Written by Regina Brett, 90 years old, of the Plain Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio.
"To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 42 lessons life taught me. It is the most requested column I've ever written. My odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:
1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
3. Life is too short – enjoy it..
4. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and family will.
5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don't have to win every argument. Stay true to yourself.
7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.
8. Save for retirement starting with your first pay check.
9. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
10. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.
11. It's OK to let your children see you cry.
12. Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
13. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it...
14 Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.
15. Get rid of anything that isn't useful. Clutter weighs you down in many ways.
16. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
17. It's never too late to be happy. But it’s all up to you and no one else.
18. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.
19. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.
20. Over prepare, then go with the flow.
21. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.💖
22. The most important sex organ is the brain.
23. No one is in charge of your happiness but you.
24. Frame every so-called disaster with these words 'In five years, will this matter?'
25. Always choose life.
26. Forgive but don’t forget.
27. What other people think of you is none of your business.
28. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.
29. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
30. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does..
31. Believe in miracles.
32. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
33. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.
34. Your children get only one childhood.
35. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
36. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere. (I love this one)
37. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.
38. Envy is a waste of time. Accept what you already have not what you need.
39. The best is yet to come...
40. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
41. Yield.
42. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift."


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Sunday, 17 September 2023

SO PLEASE DEAR DAUGHTER


SO PLEASE DEAR DAUGHTER
(author unknown)

Listen close, dear daughter…
You don’t have to play the part of the good girl.
I know the weight that it carries.
Trying to be ‘good.’
Good is doing all the right things.
Good is self-sacrifice.
Good is what’s expected.
Good is what’s praised.
Except
Good is subjective.
What looks good for some
Can feel terrible for others.
What someone says feels good.
May not be the right fit for you.
And what someone believes is good.
You may know in your heart, is not.
So, no, my girl.
I don’t hope for you to be good.
I hope for you to be real.
Authentic.
And true to you.
I believe I’ve raised you to decide right from wrong.
I believe I’ve shown you when and where kindness matters.
I believe I’ve given you the tools to make smart decisions.
I believe I’ve placed the power of choice in your hands.
And I believe in you being real over good.
Because while good may be how you’re perceived by others.
Real…. Real is who you are within yourself.
So please, dear daughter, don’t try to be the good girl.
Strive to be the real one

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Friday, 15 September 2023

AMERICAN AIRLINES


AMERICAN AIRLINES
(author Shaina Murry)

”Today I purposely delayed my flight. And will always fly American Airlines from now on. Here is why: while on the phone getting ready to go find my gate I noticed a man (his name is Will K.) laying on the floor, not doing well- he was in distress. It was clear something was wrong, I just didn’t know what. It seemed best after asking him a few questions to call for medical assistance. After him telling me several times he was afraid he was going to miss his flight while waiting for the airport medical team to come assist him I realized that he most likely is autistic.
That triggered me to switch gears. After giving him assurance about his flight time we called his mom and let her know he wasn’t feeling well- and seeing the medical team at Dallas Airport. After much back and forth with the airport medical team, his mom, (who confirmed he was autistic) and American Airlines the medical team said he needed to eat and have something to drink and they were worried he would get sick again and didn’t know if he should fly. I worked with American Airlines and the medical team at Dallas and told the medical team I would change my flight, grab some lunch with him and make sure he got on his flight ok—American didn’t charge me a dime for the flight change and even called me when he and I were eating lunch together to let me know his gate changed. When I dropped him off at his gate-for his flight the American Airlines team took great care of him, checked on him and made sure he boarded safely to go see his Mom for Christmas. Today was not at all what I pictured it to be.
It has turned out so much better. I had an amazing lunch with a wonderful young man from Louisville, Kentucky. While I don’t know him well I know he has a heart of gold and a wonderful mother and sister who he loves very much, and after texting with his mom- she loves him just as much. American Airlines handled the situation with such professionalism and care. The medical team at Dallas as well as police were also just as amazing. Every once and awhile we all need a little help. Regardless of disability, age, or social status. Thanks for making my day Will!”

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Saturday, 26 August 2023

Letter in the Wallet


“Letter in the Wallet,”
written by Arnold Fine (1985)

As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and looked inside to find some identification so I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years.
The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the return address. I started to open the letter, hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline--1924. The letter had been written almost sixty years ago.
It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand corner. It was a "Dear John" letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that the writer could not see him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love him. It was signed, Hannah.
It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified. Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope.
"Operator," I began, "this is an unusual request. I'm trying to find the owner of a wallet that I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the wallet?"
She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, "Well, there is a phone listing at that address, but I can't give you the number." She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain my story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited a few minutes and then she was back on the line. "I have a party who will speak with you."
I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, "Oh! We bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!"
"Would you know where that family could be located now?" I asked.
"I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago," the woman said. "Maybe if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter."
She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living. I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home.
This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a wallet that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost 60 years old?
Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the phone told me, "Yes, Hannah is staying with us. "
Even though it was already 10 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her. "Well," he said hesitatingly, "if you want to take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television."
I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up to the third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah.
She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye. I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said, "Young man, this letter was the last contact I ever had with Michael."
She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said Softly, "I loved him very much. But I was only 16 at the time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor."
"Yes," she continued. "Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you should find him, tell him I think of him often. And," she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her lip, "tell him I still love him. You know," she said smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, "I never did marry. I guess no one ever matched up to Michael..."
I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard there asked, "Was the old lady able to help you?"
I told him she had given me a lead. "At least I have a last name. But I think I'll let it go for a while. I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet."
I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw it, he said, "Hey, wait a minute! That's Mr. Goldstein's wallet. I'd know it anywhere with that bright red lacing. He's always losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at least three times."
"Who's Mr. Goldstein?" I asked as my hand began to shake.
"He's one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That's Mike Goldstein's wallet for sure. He must have lost it on one of his walks." I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse's office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back to the elevator and got on. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up.
On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, "I think he's still in the day room. He likes to read at night. He's a darling old man."
We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and said, "Oh, it is missing!"
"This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?"
I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with relief and said, "Yes, that's it! It must have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to give you a reward."
"No, thank you," I said. "But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding out who owned the wallet."
The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. "You read that letter?"
"Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is."
He suddenly grew pale. "Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please, please tell me," he begged.
"She's fine...just as pretty as when you knew her." I said softly.
The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, "Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow." He grabbed my hand and said, "You know something, mister, I was so in love with that girl that when that letter came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I've always loved her."
"Mr. Goldstein," I said, "Come with me."
We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened and only one or two little night-lights lit our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone watching the television. The nurse walked over to her.
"Hannah," she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in the doorway. "Do you know this man?"
She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't say a word.
Michael said softly, almost in a whisper, "Hannah, it's Michael. Do you remember me?"
She gasped, "Michael! I don't believe it! Michael! It's you! My Michael!"
He walked slowly towards her and they embraced. The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces.
"See," I said. "See how the Good Lord works! If it's meant to be, it will be."
About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home. "Can you break away on Sunday to attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!"
It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah wore a light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall.
They made me their best man. The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom acting like two teenagers, you had to see this couple.
A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years.

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"A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS MARKET, NOT"

"A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS MARKET, NOT" (author unknown) Is there anything less festive than the Christmas markets? Thousands of piss...