Pam, the woman in the next seat, was certain she knew the young man I was talking to before the plane had boarded, but she couldn’t place him.
He was tall and striking, 6-foot-3 and with a posture and athletic gait that suggested he was something special without even trying to be.
Yet he was unassuming, carrying a backpack, sporting shaggy hair, mostly interested in whatever he was reading or listening to. He was sitting in coach, a few rows ahead of us.
“Don’t tell me,” she said, racking her brain. “But I know I have seen him and that he’s famous and that my kids know who he is.”