I don’t fly often. Santa Fe is beautiful, comfortable, familiar, and relatively safe. Flying is the opposite in my opinion, but there are times when it is worth it. One of those times was a recent trip to Boston for a reunion of mediators. I girded myself for all the hazards I could anticipate and set off for the airport, having double-checked my list:  ticket, ID, hearing aids, reading glasses (2), cell phone, cough drops, granola bar – all in place.

What about a book or a crossword puzzle, you ask? Aha, I answer, I am a modern elder. I have podcasts loaded in my cell phone which I can cleverly listen to through my hearing aids. Although it is not as hip as having an ipad or laptop with a thriller or rom com for those mind-numbing miles, it is better than fumbling with the pencil, fussing with the overhead light, not liking the book and being left with nothing to do but stare at the seat in front of me. I couldn’t guarantee the plane would end up in Boston – nose down in a Kansas cornfield is always possible – but I was doing my part for a smooth, trouble-free flight. I was quite proud of myself.

I was eager, in fact, to get going and listen to the rest of a long tale about the first female gondolier in Venice. She was from Austria and on a trip to Venice fell in love with gondoliering, the boats, the city, the water, the songs. She spent many years trying to break into the brotherhood of gondoliers, lugging equipment around, carrying boats, doing all the dirty work, and was finally allowed to take the test. There was much controversy, as you can imagine, and it was rumored that she cheated, or that the test was rigged either for or against her. But she persevered and got her license and one day she launched her own gondola. The waters for her were not calm, but she had customers who enjoyed the novelty and she was happy living out her dream… until a shocking discovery was made.