*Vacationing in Holland. I´ll be back*

Queen's day in the USA

Contrary to our personal tradition in The Netherlands, we did actually celebrate Queen's day last week. In San Francisco. Is there a celebration, I hear you say. Yes! Is it any good, I hear you say. No, but is it ever? Were there any people, I hear you say? Yes, of course there were. But were they actually Dutch? Yes, even that happened to be the case. As it so happens, the place was packed with Dutch people. And also with San Franciscanians, San Franciscosians, San Francisthigamees, who wanted to see what all the fuss was about. "Those crazy Dutchmen again. Why didn't they stay home in Denmark? Go back to where you came from. But leave the Hågelsläg." So what does Queen's day in San Francisco entail? Well, I could make this a very long and dreary story, but I won't. Similarly to Queen's day in Holland, people tend to dress up in orange, make a lot of fuss about nothing, play really loud, nasty Dutch tear jerkers, drink a lot of beer, have a flea market and bike decoration challenge, eat cheese and herring, and be proud of their Dutch heritage. But to add just a zest of American flavor to Queen's day, there were at least two minor alterations:

1.
Designated beer drinking areas. Designated as in design or something, because the designated area was fenced off with a cute white garden fence about knee high. Just high enough to stumble over after a couple of beers probably. The result of this: a lot of Dutchies huddling together with beer spilling everywhere, and some really adventurous Dutchies succumbing to the craving to find out how far they could cross the fence frontier until they really pissed off the policeman standing there. Which apparently was not far at all. Mind you, I did not succumb to the craving myself. Although I did find out that you are allowed to drink your beer standing inside the designated drinking area, while your hand that actually holds the alcoholic poison (and thus the actual poison itself) is not inside the drinking area. Bad, bad me.

2.
Having to sign in order for your kid to participate in the Dutch sack race (zaklopen). Because beware the day one of the participating children actually trips over the sack and falls. I actually though that was part of the game, and that you are disqualified if tripping does not happen. But hey, at least they did not make parents sign their name in blood. Or in the blood of their children.

But to be fair, it was a lot of fun to see a whole lot of Dutch people over here. And another advantage to this whole Queen's day in the USA is that we might get Lucas to recognize orange as orange instead of brown, which he insists it is.