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I am always intrigued by our tendency to claim something that can never be ours. We often do so under a national, collective grab. Especially when it is a celebrity, sports star, or someone who has excelled in some way. And if that person has demonstrated an especially fine and unique trait, resulting in a Nobel Prize, Academy Award, or other acknowledgment on a global scale we are especially prone to claim them as ours. We even do it to flora and fauna – we talk about “our” unique marsupials in a very possessive way, as if somehow we had some say in how they came to be to unique and striking. We claim them as “ours” as if their uniqueness makes us stand out from the rest of humanity in some sort of dramatic and better way.
Guilty, I admit to thinking “ah, our Nic” as I turned a corner in Brussels and saw the fine features of Nicole being washed in the early morning rain. On a poster at a bicycle rack promoting Chanel No5. By now my impressions of Brussels were thawing a little but I remained perplexed by the amount of rubbish lying on the sidewalks. Does anyone ever pick this stuff up? My next thought was to apologise to Nic for the rubbish piled up under her nose. Somehow it did not seem right, this beauty having to preside over this mess. Then I gave myself a quick slap, took the photo, popped the umbrella and got myself off to work.