ABOUT GOOD THINGS

#GIRO6868

And yet I want to write something about Aylan. And actually also about Mr. Geert Wilders. But let me stay away from politics. And from him.

I don't know which image has come to mind the most in recent days. The photo of Aylan or that of the little boat with all those people squished upright against each other. Honestly, capers in a jar have more room. Or was it that picture of the girl in the cheerful turquoise shorts who was lifelessly drifting in the sea.

Who decides where you are allowed to live? Is it not a coincidence that we live where we happened to come to earth? Does that mean we get to decide who can and cannot join us? And is there anyone who thinks that those people step onto an overcrowded boat because they simply feel like it? Then it is out of humanity that we must help those people, right? The earth is still big enough and as Monic Hendrickx said this weekend in Het Parool; ‘Open borders, that will eventually sort itself out.’

Once their country is stable again, they will surely return. But well, let me stay away from politics. I do find it nice to be able to do something. So this week I cleared out my wardrobe (and that of my children) and those clothes will go to a refugee center tomorrow. And I was happy when RTL asked me if I wanted to join the social media panel during the RTL Late Night special at Hotel Schiller last night.

The entrance already felt like a walk down memory lane. I met my old executive producer from my Boulevard days, the production manager, and sweet Beau who was still the presenter back then. Unfortunately, the computers were also from the old box. I rarely felt more nostalgic for my MacBook.

But I Instagrammed with Nicolette van Dam, Edwin Evers told how many followers he had on Twitter (he seriously didn't know. By the way, it's 300,000), thanked clothing store Jantje Korten from Roermond for donating their daily revenue, and gave the lovely woman from the Red Cross a pat on the back and praise for their good work.

Afterwards, I smoked an old-fashioned cigarette with Beau (he smoked, I watched) and walked tired but satisfied to the parking garage and thought about how privileged I was that a warm bed awaited me. With sleeping children in their clean pajamas. The day starts with transferring my amount. Practice what you preach, after all.

I really hope you join in. Giro6868.