Joe and Bob are sitting in the bar at the LA International Airport.
“I’ve come to meet my brother,” said Joe. “He’s due to fly in from Canada in an hour. It’s his first trip home in forty years.”
“Will you be able to recognize him?” asked Bob.
“I’m sure I won’t,” said Joe, “after all, he’s been away for a long time.”
“I wonder if he’ll recognize you?” said Bob.
“Of course he will,” said Joe. “Sure, I haven’t been away at all.”
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On a visit to my wife’s native England for our honeymoon, we arrived at London’s Gatwick Airport.
Tania headed for the British-passport control line while I, an American, waited in the foreigners’ line.
When my turn came, the customs officer asked me the purpose of my visit.
“Pleasure,” I replied. “I’m on my honeymoon.”
The officer looked first to one side of me, then the other.
“That’s very interesting, sir,” he said as he stamped my passport. “Most men bring their wives with them.”