Hi Listfriends, During my visit to Holland I visited a restaurant while I was "hyper". A lot of people were watching me while I swung my right arm around, hardly capable to eat my dutch pastry named "moorkop". I joked my company by telling them that I was a celebrity. Back in the hotel room I wrote the following poem. Celebrity That man is staring at me, What do I say to him?, What must I do?, Who must I be? Can I be too slim? Oh my, now that woman is staring too, Am I as famous as Muhammad Ali?, How do I behave, what do I do? Do I look like Michael J. Fox, is that me? I enjoyed it very much it makes me feel very good to be the center of the world, I think it fits me like a suit. I sway my arms wild around, stick my legs out wide, my arm just misses my daughter When I say to my neighbour "hi !" Do I wear the same clothes? Have I done something special? I smile back at them both, That seems to be crucial. They move their eyes from me, I know what causes that motion, I am not a celebrity......, I have Parkinsons.