My daughter recently returned from a week-long school trip. Leading up tho the trip, there was much discussion among her peers about whether they would be allowed to bring their phones on the bus.
It’s the summer of 2021, and I'm with my brother-in-law again. We are on a much smaller boat with a much simpler pair of goals: to not fall into the icy water around Kodiak Island, Alaska, while also trying to catch at least one fish (or to at VERY least not hook one of our fishing partners with one of the stunningly large hooks on our borrowed poles!).
When we finally got to the hotel last night, it was like they had worked up a community theater version of Oliver!. Kids were dancing everywhere, running artfully across counters and jumping on tables, evidently responding to music that must have been playing inside their own heads.
There was a chance – just a CHANCE – that the thing currently disturbing my bobber was some sort of prehistoric mud-dweller, one who had lain at the bottom on Old Man So-and-So’s pond since the dark ages, and was just now summoned from the murky depths to investigate the curiosity that was my small nightcrawler, still struggling upon my tiny hook.