Dalai Lama or Nordies? Tough Choice

We were in Seattle yesterday on a mini-vacation (using a gift certificate for a $40 a plate dinner at the Met) and my daughter had nixed going to see Cabaret in lieu of a shopping spree.

We are across the street from Nordstroms, and all the sudden the entire street is blocked off by police. The Dalai Lama is leaving for a speaking engagement. I hand J. my cell phone to take a picture of his holiness, and she looks at me in scorn.

"Mom, he is 2 blocks away, and this, as you may have noticed, has no zoom," she sniffs. "Besides, how long is this going to take, she said, longingly looking at the main entrance which feeds directly into the shoe department."

"It will take as long as it takes," I snap back.

We focus on a cluster of limos up the street, and sure enough, out pops of vague figure in a red robe. Quick, I command, and she snaps a shot.

All you see is a red blob surrounded by men in black.

Okay, maybe he'll wave at us, I tell her. That's what The Queen does. She gives me a skeptical look.

Finally, 15 cops on motorcycles roar by, and then the motorcade, and no the Dalai Lama was not waving out the window. I think he was the figure in the second limo. But there were two guys hanging out the window of the advance car that looked like they'd shoot you (in the name of peace of course) if you so much as put a toenail out on the road.

Okay, fine, as all we're left with is more police and exhaust fumes. Let's go worship on the altar of Nordies shoes.