I’m at the tail end of a LHR-ORD-SEA-PDX itinerary, on which I can happily state I have not paid for a single drink.
That said, as I was (sadly soberly) meandering my way through the warrens that is Heathrow about . . . 20 hours ago, Heathrow seemed to serve as a perfect metaphor for the development of British democracy. Built sporadically, incrementally, muddled through without vision. Might be fine for a glacier, but not something designed to get people places.
Or designed at all, really.
Also, my rosary caused some bother in security at ORD. I took delight in that, being the morally relativistic trailblazer that certain uptight Catholic segments of wingnutia believe I am (so uptight she had to point out that one of her own allies is a — gasp — Protestant).