Jul. 29th, 2008

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Erma Bombeck:

There were thirty whole beautiful minutes before my plane took off ... time for me to be alone with my own thoughts, to open a book and let my mind wander. A voice next to me belonging to an elderly woman said, "I'll bet it's cold in Chicago."
Stone-faced, I answered, "It's likely."
"I haven't been to Chicago in nearly three years," she persisted. "My son lives there."
"That's nice," I said, my eyes intent on the printed page of the book.
"My husband's body is on the plane. We've been married for fifty-three years. I don't drive, you know, and when he died a nun drove me from the hospital. We aren't even Catholic. The funeral director let me come to the airport with him."

I don't think I have ever detested myself more than I did at that moment. Another human being was screaming to be heard and in desperation had turned to a cold stranger who was more interested in a novel than the real-life drama at her elbow.

All she needed was a listener ... no advice, wisdom, experience, money, assistance, expertise or even compassion ... but just a minute or two to listen.

It seemed rather incongruous that in a society of supersophisticated communication, we often suffer from a shortage of listeners.

She talked numbly and steadily until we boarded the plane, and found her seat in another section. As I hung up my coat, I heard her plaintive voice say to her seat companion, "I'll bet it's cold in Chicago."

I prayed, "Please God, let her listen."

Why am I telling you this? To make me feel better. It won't help, though.

certainthings: (Matthew Gray Gubler is a guitar hero)
I'm capping videos and there was this and I am very easily amused.

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