I don’t usually talk on planes, with the exception of the moment we land in Detroit, and fellow Michiganians begin to murmur about being home and start showing each other on our hands what part of the state we still have to get to from the airport.
I had another exception on a recent return trip from Chicago. Pleased I got the side with only one seat on our shoebox of a plane, I settled in for solitary, quiet flight, until the man who smiled at me at the gate sat down kitty corner and started up a conversation.