Ironic Robin

The flight Frankfurt to Florence was great fun! I sat with a French hipster -- musician, prolly 25 -- who was just getting back to Pisa from a trip to Vancouver. He constantly played with his chin length hair, pulling it up into a short pony tail here or there on his head as much as the length would allow him.  I'd spotted him in the airport waiting in line, his hipster hat sitting at a near impossible angle (I guess anchored by the pony tail).

When he found the seat and unloaded I said "Please tell me how you keep that ironic hat on your head." Which apparently was a fun question because he laughed and admitted it was probably sticking to his hair since he'd been travelling so long. (Eewwwwwwww!)

His name is Robin (Robyn?) and we had a great conversation trashing the politicians of our respective countries -- greedy pigs whose only agenda is getting elected and getting elected again. (He has been watching The Donald with wide-eyed incredulity -- but then, haven't we all?) We then moved on to today's youth who waste their lives and compromise their safety posting every waking minute on social media.

He told how, at some airport of his journey in Canada, his seersucker jacket had registered some illegal substance on a scan, so he was escorted into a room for questioning for hours until the Mounties (or whoever) finally believed he was just a musician travelling with a group for cultural exchange. Apparently the Canadians are known for being very tough on border control and questioning suspicious people. Whereas America's Finest TSA -- not so much (except old ladies in wheel chairs).

All in all it was a fun flight.