It started with an odd coincidence of events. I had just finished transcribing into my kitchen calendar Dan’s schedule for the next couple of months, which involves an exceptional amount of business travel (even for him). We were unwinding with a couple of fresh-lime margaritas. And Dan was getting ready to grill the bluefish; we had bought enough for an additional person or two and then decided we’d rather not have company.

“You’ll have leftover bluefish,” he warned me solemnly. “You’ll have to remember to eat it while I’m gone.”

“I can hardly remember anything these days unless I write it down,” I moaned. My common complaint.

“Well, you’d better remember me.”

I love it when he says things like that. “Not likely,” I retorted. “You’re going to be gone too much.”

And the next thing you know, we were off and running. We could see it clearly….

“Hello,” asks the telephone caller, “Is Dan there?”

“Here?” I echo. “No way. He’s never here. Call American Airlines.”

“Hello, American Airlines? I’m looking for a Mr. Daniel Kenney.”

“Daniel Kenney? Yes, he’s booked on several of our flights this week. Just one moment, please, and we’ll connect you.”

Segue to an airplane somewhere over the North American continent. The telephone located in the back of the middle seat of a row in the middle of the plane starts to ring. Dan, in the aisle seat, says to the passenger next to him. “Could you please get that? If it’s my wife, tell her I’m not here. I’ve changed seats with someone at the back of the plane.”