8 Almonds and 1 Rabbit

KLM attractive packaging of not particularly attractive snacks is a proof that, even in our digitalised world,  the words maintain their power. If you got just a plain bag with 8 salted almonds in it, and you’d have consumed them immediately (which you certainly would, starving on board a short distance flight after getting up too late to have breakfast at home), you would have thought you’ve just consumed 8 salted almonds. You’d probably feel like having some more, not because they were so tasty, but because you can’t hope to get anything else during  such a short flight.

But on board a KLM city hopper getting your 8 salted almonds is a different experience . It is a “Delicious treat” – this is what the bag says. And if it’s your first time, and you don’t know what’s in there, your imagination is set to work and the sachet starts to feel like the tantalising amuse you get at a good restaurant while waiting for your meal. “Delicious treat” - those words create expectations, and might be a source of slight disappointment if 8 salted almonds isn’t exactly your idea of a delicious treat. “Well, ok, maybe that’s because I’m simply not that much into salted almonds.” you say to yourself while you watch your neighbour devouring the 8 nuts with genuine pleasure.

Next time you have the bag in your hands it makes you laugh. That’s power of words, too. In this case the contrast between what it says on the packaging, and what’s inside.

But laughing is good. Much better than an edible delicious treat. "Laughing and smiling are a gate and a door, through which many good things can slip into you” (Christian Morgenstern, my own translation) . So you smile, and consume the same 8 salted almonds. Thank you, city hopper. You never know when inspiration strikes you.

I’m still starving, but of course it doesn’t say anything about the quality of the almonds. Everybody knows that a visit at a Michelin star restaurant is not supposed to appease your hunger but to elevate your spirit and tantalise your palate (and you can still have some hearty soup after you get back home).

The same goes for movies: my favourites are “A Beautiful Mind”, “American Beauty” and the stealing one (“Stealing Beauty”). All very beautiful indeed. I’m not sure if I would like “The Beauty and the Beast” though – that depends on the share of the latter in it.

“I can’t possibly know what I think before I say it” writes Pascal Mercier (“Night Train to Lisbon”). I like that. Mee too, I need to dress my thoughts in words before I realise what I actually think. But on some bad days, whatever I say only brings me down. I need someone else to assure me it’s much better than I think it is.

Obviously, it’s often difficult to find a credible person to tell you what you want to hear the moment you want to hear it. Chances are that they will either tell you today what you wanted to hear two days ago, or they will tell you today something you don’t want to hear at all. Alternatively, they might tell you exactly what you want to hear and when you want to hear it, but they do not sound credible at all.

Therefore, for all such difficult moments, I keep a paper placemat in my drawer, a souvenir from a Chinese restaurant I once visited.
That was an important event, not in terms of the quality of food, but on the psychological level. Namely, this was the day I discovered that I was a Rabbit. "luckiest of signs – talented and affectionate, yet shy. Seeking peace. " I can't help it, you see. I'm the luckiest! But I'm sure so will you be, if I send you the decription of your own sign. (There was also advice on whom I should marry, but I skipped it, as it came too late, and I married a Tiger in all ignorance, not aware that I should have married a Sheep or Pig. But  I came out all right, maybe because the Tiger’s hair is quite Sheep-like, in fact, I might perhaps be revealing a family secret here, so please keep it for yourself: he actually was called a Sheep in his school days).

There’s something for everyone on this placemat. Just tell me the year you were born, and I’ll share some good words with you: the words you want to hear, the moment you want to hear them, and very credible to top it off. After all, which horoscope could be more reliable than a Chinese one  found at a Chinese restaurant?

This brings me to a good idea for T-shirts: if you print your horoscope (or some other good words) on it, then what's inside (i.e. you) will instantly become someone special. Just like the 8 almonds inside the KLM city hopper sachet.