ARCHIVAL: Fly an airplane, no … not really

ARCHIVAL: Fly an airplane, no … not really

NOTE: This post original appeared on my Livejournal account.  The other morning I saw Sam, the man who runs our mail room, out smoking as I walked into the building. He and I see each other several times a week – his smoke break and my arrival often coincide – and exchange a “Hey, how’s it going?” and a few words about the weather. That particular morning, he greeted me with the statement, “Fly an airplane.” I was pre-coffee at this stage. Having been awake for less than an hour, this enigmatic statement left me a bit confused. Had our building suddenly gained a spy versus spy pass code? Was I being tested in someway that only makes sense to long term Harvard staff? “Drive a car?” I responded.Sam gave a good chuckle. “No, no – your list. The list we talked about...

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