I am back in the United States, after the usual difficulty with planes. Other people tell me they have no problem flying, which has led me to conclude that I have bad plane karma. This version involves marzipan.
I bought the German candy for two friends who requested it. On the plane from Munich to Dulles, I filled out the U.S. Customs form, which asks what you are bringing into the country. I checked "yes" in the box for "Food." This tipped me into the non-straight-forward category of arrival, which in turn required a long wait in a long line for a more thorough security check. I kept saying, "But it's only marzipan!" The customs officials kept saying, "Ma'am, we don't make the rules, it's marked on the form." Neither of us was happy.
I made the flight from Dulles to Rochester with about two minutes to spare, and only after sprinting through the airport in a bad imitation of O.J. Simpson commercials. If you're too young to recall those ads -- well, I'm too old to have to be imitating them.
Marzipan is dangerous. Who knew?