"Once a year, I get my shoes neatly polished on the eve of the Feast of the Three Kings. According to the ancient and charming Spanish custom, on the night of January 5th, the three Kings pause by my apartment building, squeeze their camels into the elevator. But this year, frankincensuously, I'm not sure that the Kings are going to come my way. I'd guess that the cost of supporting a camelcade would run high. My most reliable source, the year-old son of my portero, assures me, though, that despite all the difficulties, the Kings will arrive in Madrid this year."