Earlier this summer I admired the logo for the southern American supermarket chain Food Lion, a proud blue lion in a square lozenge.  I was enchanted by its graphic clarity and its Euro-regal pretensions.  It all seemed a bit much, and also exactly right, for a supermarket that stocked buckets of lard and a thousand varieties of barbecue sauce.  So I was surprised to spot the logo gracing a supermarket called Delhaize in Brussels.  It turns out that Food Lion is a subsidiary of the Belgian conglomerate (also called Delhaize) that owns the chain.  When they built the Food Lion brand they reused the same logo.

I imagined that the Food Lion lion had been concocted, “Mad Men” style, by an enterprising, low-ranking manager at the American headquarters in Salisbury, North Carolina sometime around 1962.  In a way the lion has become the mascot for my peripatetic summer.  What was there tying together my small-town Arkansas days and big-city European adventures?  “Le Lion,” was right there, all along, looking over me, and keeping me well.

I typically race through the Egyptian wing of the Metropolitan Museum (which one needs to walk through to reach the costume gallery) to avoid the schoolchildren gawking at the mummies and the droning docents accompanying them.  But this weekend I walked through in an entirely different spirit, mindful of the revolution in that country.  The statues, reliefs and small objects on display all seemed especially expressive.

During the protests in Cairo some foreigners expressed concern that the country wasn’t acting to preserve its artistic and archaeological treasures.  That’s an awfully high-handed perspective when one recalls how many ancient Egyptian artefacts are esconced, safely, in international museums.  Hopefully the country will find stability soon and the pieces in the Met’s galleries can one day be returned.