My mother’s mothballs got me locked up in Spanish jail

AIRPORT ‘security’ becomes more bizarre by the day. One is forced to question the sanity and procedures of those charged with imposing passenger and airline safety.

To my mind they are either as thick as a nuclear bunker or eccentric; the travelling public by contrast are a sensible bunch.

In a flight of fancy Guardia Civil officers at Madrid’s Barajas Airport charged Panamanian doctor, Juan Rodriguez Lizondro with carrying clothing impregnated with cocaine.

The officers had been attracted by the pong, which the 34-year old claimed was that of mothballs, used by his doting grandmother.

The clothing was aerosol tested and the trial’s judge decided the aerosol couldn’t possibly be wrong. The unfortunate Seventh Adventist; a teetotaller and non-smoker, was thrown into the calaboose until more accurate tests six months later proved him right.

They were indeed mothballs. Aerosols and laboratory testing? We all know what camphor (mothballs) smell like for goodness sake! When travelling by air I am far more apprehensive about the mental state of functionaries than I am of potential terrorists.

We learn that Neanderthals, who once lived in the Torremolinos area, did a spot of fishing there.

Carbon dating has placed the revelatory fossils in the Cueva Bajondillo as being 150,000 old; the oldest in recorded history. Norman Rockwell was perhaps the United States most enduring artists.

His speciality was painting small town American life for the Saturday Evening Post.

One wonderful and much celebrated cover depicted a family group of animal skin-clad Neanderthals squatting at a river’s bank.Whilst the crouching primitive was fishing and the offspring played with bones, mother was doing the cooking.

Underneath was a picture of a modern family doing exactly the same; the only difference being the clothing and the toys. Maybe we will end up back were we started.




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