Ken Kurtz: No longer a stranger.

I hate to travel. But I love getting to my destination. It's the travel part that throws me for a loop. I'm  uncomfortable in the act of traveling. Taking care of the details. Getting everything in order. Running around. Catching flights. Checking bags. It's stressful. But I cope. Usually by talking to strangers. Getting to know something significant about 'em. Like the guy that sat next to me Tuesday on the flight from Minneapolis to Phoenix. We didn't talk to each other  for the first half of the three-hour journey. I gazed at the guy. He was absorbed in a book. A military story. The guy has a military bearing. Big. Burly. Bald. Wore a beret. Didn't take it off for the first hour. Had huge hands. Not long fingers. But thick thumbs. Three times as big as mine. His closed fist could have delivered a lethal knockout wallop. I pondered whether I should strike up a conversation. He was in the middle seat. I was on the aisle. On his left. An elderly Asian woman was on his right in the window seat. I would not have hesitated talking to her right from the start if we had been shoulder to shoulder. But I was uncertain about this guy. Took me a while. My curiosity finally won out. We became acquainted. And no, he didn't pursue a military career. He's Ken Kurtz, a construction contractor in Palm Springs in California. But he grew up in the city of Superior in Wisconsin. He misses Lake Superior and the Northwoods environs. Learned all sorts of interesting personal stuff about him. A very likeable chap. If my path ever leads to Palm Springs, I wouldn't hesitate looking up Ken Kurtz. He's no longer a stranger. --Jim Broede