After a long hard day of surviving myself, I cozied up to my drug habit of choice. While everyone in the hotel lobby was dragging off their hash cigarettes and polluting the airspace, I clung to my coke and snickers and bottle of water. The midnight movie, the film of whatever happens to be playing on the English channel (with Arabic subtitles scrolling and muddying up the screen) became my saving grace medicine… The Love Guru, with Mike Meyers. I had never seen it. I needed to laugh like that, though… at stupid, juvenile, jr. high humor… at American “inside-baseball” gags… no matter how silly and profane and base, it just felt so good to laugh hard outloud, with all the others in the room (from various distant parts of the globe) joining in. I wasn’t sure if all the laughter was true, I mean, authentic, if everyone in the room GOT the jokes… but like being in a movie theater, it gets contagious…. or maybe I looked like a goofball kid, laughing far more than anyone else… the Western humor, mixed with my long-lost English language, was so potent and sharp and pointy and delicious.