Paris Charles De Gaul and Blueberry Pancakes

Sept 2nd
Though I think I return from new haven in time, I am frantically stuffing my bags at 8:15. The shuttle will pick me up at 8:30, I run outside to say goodbye in person to Michelle, then see Mark for a few minutes before the shuttle arrives. I figured I should not leave til later, but recommended travel time to JFK is 1.5 hours, and check in time is 2-3 hours, so—I am in the van and we are off—still feel I have too much stuff—not enough gifts for people, but I am recording their story, so—
The French serve bread with everything. On the plane there is a basket of bread brought out with every meal. First there is some strange shrimp and couscous thing, which is almost not terrible, but I don’t know who would eat shrimp on a plane. Breakfast however, is very nice—Pancakes or omelet? Pancakes or omelet? Because I hate pancakes, assuming they will be some horrible buttermilk stuff go for the omelet, but then I see they mean crepes, blueberry crepes!
I think of Koz, yes, pancakes for some reason make everyone happy! Why is that? Half of it must be the name. Pan-cakes. Pan- cakes. How the n rolls into the c, that soft into the hard. And its blueberry pancakes. I hold this up as one of the most beautiful words in the English language—next to "cellardoor". Cellardoor: Blueberry Pancakes.BlueberryPancakes. It sounds like an album, like "Tubular Bells". It feels good to say. I can almost taste them.