I pick my parents up at their bench, and we continue walking around Zurich. It seems they have forgotten my birthday. We walk and walk, trying to find a giant Ferris wheel that my Mom remembers from when she traveled around Europe in the forties. We eventually find it, and my Mom lets out a    big sigh. I think its a good sigh. Relief maybe. Relief that there are some things in the world that a person can count on.

During our search for the wheel, my Dad spots the perfect picture. "Perfect?" I ask, "A construction site?"

"A crane with an old yellow building in the background.  A composition that exemplifies all of the complexities and nuances of Zurich and the Austrian psyche." he explains.

The camera is digital. I can just erase it.  I take the picture for him, saying "Done. Click and click. I'll email it to you."

He says, "It's not for me Mark. It's for you. Happy Birthday."

"Happy Birthday, Marky." my Mom echos the sentiment.

On the way back to their bench, we stop at a cafe and have a drink. My Mom goes into the washroom and picks up a Jehovah's Witness, who she brings back to the table. The woman is clever. Too clever. It makes me feel uncomfortable. Mom notices this, and gets rid of the woman. "I'm sorry, I thought you were into Parkour, but now I see that with that bum leg of yours, you will never be able to do this."

She jumps up on the table, and from there into a nearby tree, then across to the awning of the cafe, where she does some parallel bars spinning thing, and dismounts back onto the table facing the woman. "You should leave now."