I’m on the first of three trips to Phoenix over the next eight days, for three unrelated events at which I’m speaking. Weird.

On the America West ride from Boston, the guy in the seat ahead of me was surprisingly annoying. He was about my age (115+) but he rocked in his seat like a 5 year old. And for much of the trip he sat with his hands clasped behind the top of his seat. They were lovely hands — pale, freckled, soft red hair. But they were 4 inches from my face.

I didn’t have the nerve to ask him to move his hands, but I did “accidentally” brush them with my book a few times as I turned pages. He didn’t seem to mind.

I don’t know why I found this so annoying. But I did. I mean, doesn’t he understand that one person’s back is another person’s front?

Categories: Uncategorized dw