It’s been six months since my last plane ride. A West-Jet aircraft took tabla player, Ananda, and me to Thunder Bay. Before embarking on this two hour, seven minute flight, the attendant at the entrance offered each passenger a sanitized white cloth.
“This is for your seat,” she said. However, the mask over her mouth muffled the sound that came out. I thought I heard her say, “This is for your feet.” I heard her say it to the passenger in front of me, to me and to Ananda just behind me. “For yo
