The end of the semester is upon me — and just in time.
All the deadlines for magazine articles, the endless grading of papers, getting ready for Mexico and trying to read the tea leaves about the future, are coming together in a crescendo that’s deafening.
Add to that that I just accepted an assignment to go fly in an experimental aircraft and you can understand why there should be Grey Goose in my glass right now, instead of two-buck-Chuck Merlot. (Mas vino, por favor, amiga.)
Saturday, in a small plane that has Plexiglas doors and roof, I will go catapulting into the air over the foothills in pursuit of a story about adventuring. I love adventuring. I’m not so keen on doing it at several thousand feet over rough terrain.
Still, earlier this week I attempted to convince a good student that she has all the ‘right stuff’ to be a journalist, that journalism and writing can be a lot of fun (despite all my in-class comments about how hard the work is).
Saturday, I get to live that advice and hope that Saturday night I still get to live the advice by writing the story about how the fellow who is piloting the aircraft gets his kicks doing barrel rolls.
Perhaps if I wasn’t so tired from a long semester — or had a career-making profile on deadline for next week — the prospect might not be so daunting.
Up, up and away. Just like Superman…
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