years. His seat is next to mine, and it’s taking WD-40 and a shoehorn to wedge in his supersized caboose. Then our elbows touch. (Aggghhhhh!) I could keep going. No kidding. About the mother who can’t keep her child quiet, about the male flight attendant who of course is flamboyantly gay, about the people who haven’t paid me near enough to come speak for them to make up for the misery I am enduring. You get the point. Most of us can’t make it an hour without making a judgment about another person.