I was recently on a plane, heading to a much needed vacation and visit with Baby Jesus. Next to me was a nice older gentleman that kindly kept to his own seat, didn’t hog the arm rest and did not try to make idle chit chat. But, when forced into a confined space for several hours and literally sharing the same air, some conversation naturally ensues. He was flying to visit his daughter and her family, his wife was already there. He said he was retired and his daughter wanted him to move there. Naturally, I asked what he did before retiring. He said he was a reporter for the Pittsburgh Post Gazette. I was impressed. I told him that I had been a journalism major for about a minute before transferring colleges, then switched to the all encompassing English as a major since Journalism wasn’t offered. He nodded and said he wished he would have taken more English classes to learn how to actually write.
Stranger on the plane: “There is actually a big difference between reporting and writing.”
Me: “Of course there is. One has adjectives and the other doesn’t.”
The stranger’s face lit up and he actually guffawed. That’s me, providing nerdy entertainment even at a cruising altitude. You are welcome, my friend.