On Peanut Butter and Plastique

Shortly after we arrived in Germany, Mom sent me a package: some mail from the PO box, Balance bars, a jar of peanut butter, and various stuff.

However, I never GOT the package. Who knows where it is? Mom has lost the customs form, and the USPS has no other way to track it (since they can’t look it up by name or anything simple like that). It’s lost in Nowhere Land, the place to which ballpoint pens and left socks disappear.

I think it was the peanut butter.

Let me explain. The first year I was at UGA, my friend Linda went on a Maymester (2005) trip to India with prof. Farley and various other students (including another friend, Lauren, who is one of our PhD cohort and now Dr. Lauren!). According to Linda, Farley’s fondness for peanut butter was threatened by the scarcity of said comestible in Indian groceries. Therefore, he decided to take some with him for the trip.

Farley was stopped by airport security, who asked that he open the peanut butter and eat some of it in their presence. Apparently, peanut butter and plastic explosives look very similar to the X-Ray machines. So to prove he wasn’t a terrorist, Farley ate the peanut butter.

Fast forward to today. After nearly four weeks, Mom’s package still hasn’t arrived, despite the fact that the books Lucy & Smitty sent to Sheridan after Mom got here almost a week ago. We can’t track it, I’ve called about the important mail (one was a check, I had to have it reissued), and at this point I’ve pretty much written off whatever was in the box. If it comes later, it’s a happy present. Such is life.

Hope someone is enjoying the Jif.

UPDATE 12 OCTOBER 2008: The package has arrived… well, back in the US anyway. I talked to Mom today, and after two and a half months, the package she sent us has returned to her. It even has a Zurich sticker—it’s better travelled than we are! It’s squished, and makes a bad rattling sound like something inside is broken. I’ll post a pic when Mom sends me one.

Leave a Reply