h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

A couple weeks ago, I had to fly out to Oregon to attend a marketing conference. During a layover in Chicago, I decided to buy a magazine to pass the time. So, I stroll into the airport bookstore and head to the back. I walk back and forth a few times, scanning the limited but diverse selection. "Glamour?" Nah... too beauty-oriented. "People?" Nope... I'm tired of realizing I will never look like a star. "Time?"... ugh, too political (gives me indigestion). "Scientific American?" Well, I think we have a winner folks.

I have always loved science. My number one goal as I finished college was to become a scientific writer. But, as you may know, I now work in a credit union... OH! THE HORROR!! My favorite all-time class was genetics/molecular genetics. This issue just happened to have a double helix sprawled across the cover. How could I pass it up?

The time comes for me to board the plane. I sit down in my aisle seat and patiently wait... hoping no one will sit between the man by the window and myself. All the while, I'm engrossed in an article about the advancements for Alzheimers patients. Then suddenly, from nowhere, a man lifts his bag over my head to the luggage bin and explains that his seat is 15B. Fine.

For the next three and a half hours, the two men and I discussed topics ranging from snow skiing to cars (mostly male-oriented). But, proudly, not once did I lack any personal input. Surprisingly, I was offering facts right and left. How was I doing it? I usually never have the nerve to volunteer information if it offers the slight possibility of being wrong. At one point during our flight, a silence fell among the three of us... so I reached for my magazine out of the seat pocket in front of me. I was now half-way through reading it. One of the men politely asked, "What on earth made you want to read 'Scientific American'?" So I explained myself. It was at that point that I came to a silent revelation. This science-loaded grouping of pages just exercised my dormant brain. The reading I had been doing had me concentrate on what I was taking in; many sentences had to be read over a couple times before I could understand what it was explaining. I was finally thinking in clear patterns... oh, it felt good.

I ended up casually placing the magazine back into the seat pocket and the three of us resumed our "manly" conversations. I felt good; I felt proud. The plane lands, we say our good-byes, and I make my way to the baggage claim and then on out to grab a taxi. On my way to the hotel that evening, I wonder to myself what I will do after dinner. Perhaps I will continue reading my "brain dumbell." Suddenly a wave of panic washes over me... my magazine still remained in the seat pocket of seat 15C.

Monsuana,

this is great... this would be great in a letter... (as the patron saint of personal nonfiction I must encourage it whenever possible)


You are a good writer... I know I've told you this before, but I think you have a very natural voice in your writing... perfect for creative nonfiction (there I go again)

sbz

Thanks Spaceboy... (I'm referring to your compliment on my writing in case you've forgotten since I've taken so long to reply). That is very sweet of you to say.

I am hoping that your encouraging words and your own writing will continue to keep me motivated.

The world absolutely needs more people like you.

Mon Aub

*blush*

tee hee

Well it's good to have you back...