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I DON’T WANT to write this. Not here. Not now.
Here is in seat 2K, a business-class spot, wide and supportive, the sort I rarely get to enjoy. It’s by the window, looking down on Lake Erie’s greenish-blue calm 28,000 feet below, as this Air Canada Boeing 767 plies its leisurely path from Toronto (where I live) to Orlando (where I’m speaking at a conference). Now is during this flight, one of those defined chunks of travel time that are increasingly occupied by work, even though I’d rather be doing anything else. I am up…