I happen to go to Charlotte. Charlotte? What kind of city is asking me before you get there. I'm going from Indianapolis to Orlando (the country where there is Disneyland) and the plane makes a stop in Charlotte. I wonder who has organized the transfer, "there is indeed a direct flight?" "I have to move to Charlotte?". Unfortunately it seems so. And so at 9 o'clock in the evening landed in the city that has:

1. the largest fundraiser for the arts in the world
2. the highest percentage per capita of 500 companies in the fortunes of
3. the highest percentage of flights per inhabitant.

A classic record of the American province, unknown to many, the pride of the inhabitants.

A huge airport with hundreds of flights, aircraft in the waiting rooms, they are so large, hundreds of people around. I stop the dozens (hundreds) of stores to learn more. This is the strength of prov incia American, I stop and look around. A huge billboard, informs everyone that the "new bathrooms (processes) that will soon be over," there is also the simulation of the figure of the new bathroom will be. But how are these incredible Americans, and chubby babies, but they are accountable, rendicontano, tell, overspiegano, swollen with information, they tell you everything you need to tell you and more. So even if there 'a bath, because of a "major restructuration" the customer, which is a citizen who pays taxes, does not go away unsatisfied (and not because some fool says on television that "taxes they are beautiful ... ", but because I put the whole). I've made in a small bathroom, small, but in a few months everyone will do in a bigger and more beautiful.
The moral: Simple. Needless to say, inform, explain, describe, and then after a while 'to communicate, explain, describe, and then after a while' still, continuously and tirelessly. This is the way to "fund raising". Charlotte, the city with the highest collection of fund raising for the arts across america (or around the world).
They are flying from Charlotte to Orlando, I get in the plane and there 'a seat, a fluke I travel first class. They are next to a lovely lady (at least I guess), a 40-year-old seems a bit 'sketchy. I'm tired, I'm not going to talk to anyone, but at the end of the flight, it makes me "had a good flight?" In the final five minutes and so I find that is a mother of 5 children and lives in Orlando and that his husband is home .... and it's all happy!

I love this country, I love these people, so improbably girl, yet so probably seekers of happiness, other prospectors. I see them in their eyes, students in the campus that I attend, the tired faces that do fly, as they do in the lesson.
Do not change one iota the judgment and the power that I transmitted the first long trip of '92-95; are seekers. Looking for something decidedly more tired of us Europeans. They are hungry, we have already eaten ... (and we also burps, because we have too). Even if they are seeking more, looking for something more, another limitation to be overcome.
I do not ever take away the pain of America, and the problem is that I coming back (increasing) in a violent way, and have not yet returned to New York where I lived for many years. Who knows how it will be, who knows what I see.