30-some years ago my family and I were returning from New York to Saudi Arabia, where I worked.

We arrived at Grand Central Station (coming from the Palmyra area) and got in a taxi to make our flight at JFK. On the bridge over the East River the taxi hood slams open, flips back, breaks off, and flies over the taxi. It's late at night with little traffic, so the driver stops, leans the hood agains the median, and take us on to JFK. I give him a larger but still useless tip for his troubles...