Another Recycled Recountance
Another story from several years ago.
As I wrote in my journal the guy sitting next to me on the plane says, "You must be a writer." I mumbled some phrase that was intended to say.... "The reason I am writing in my journal is to avoid talking to inquisitive seat mates." He didn't get it. He is a writer. Told me he is working on the "History of WWII." I said, "Very comprehensive subject... I wouldn't know where to start on a project like that." (read... leave me alone I am trying to write my own history, thank you.) He said, "Well this is how I started." And with those six words, I am sentenced to airplane hell.
He has a lap top computer with the entire text of his book, letters from soldiers, declassified reports of battles, navigational charts and SIX HUNDRED AND FORTY NINE scanned black and white photographs from WWII. From Detroit to Los Angeles I was captive audience to a guy with a lap top vacation slide show.
"And here is a shot of the island of Koregeidor and the USS Nicholas engaged in the first battle of the start of the south sea push." "Here is that same ship from the bridge....click.... from the stern.... click... from the ship next to the ship looking back...click... a shot of the Executive Officer during battle...click.. oh and a very rare photo of the Nicholas taken from the Japanese ship in the battle just as they were struck by a torpedo...click.... Japanese sailors being rescued from the water......"
The food came. It didn't matter he was able to continue the show and balance his tray at the same time. One of the bitter sweet joys of the larger fist class seat.
At about slide Six hundred and twelve... a dialogue box appeared on the computer screen that said "Low battery power... shut down immediately or plug in charger." If he had gone for the charger... I would have gone for my fork and poked out my own eyes. Thank goodness for limited battery life... it saved mine.
As you were,