We'll meet again. Some day.

He's brilliant. But absent-minded. Unable to figure out where to sit on a plane flight from Cagliari to Rome. That's my good fortune. Means I sat next to Josef. An Italian. An electrical engineer. Josef happens to speak English and French and Spanish and Chinese. We engaged in good conversation. In English, of course. For the entire one-hour flight. And then the obliging Josef helped me find my next flight connection. To Frankfurt. While he headed off to Genoa. But I have a hunch we'll meet again. By email. And in my blog. I cultivated a contact with a stranger. As if it was meant to be. I've done it before. And I'll do it again. I'm sure. We know a bit about each other. As much as one can learn in an hour. And that's the way life is supposed to be. Strangers. Becoming acquainted. Instantly. Funny thing about Josef. He was in the wrong seat. In the middle seat. On the wrong side of the aisle. He was supposed to be next to the window. On the other side. Josef thought for a moment that I might be seated on his mobile phone. So he asked me in Italian if I'd get up so he could look. I didn't quite understand. And I replied in English. And Josef spoke perfect English. And I understood. Turned out that his cell phone was in his shirt pocket. Anyway, I inquired whether Josef was an Italian. He was. And how did he learn his English? In school. And he likes languages. Even Chinese. Well, we talked. More or less non-stop. And I told Josef he'd be reading about himself in my blog. And yes, I expect we'll meet again. Some day. --Jim Broede