photo: public domain
I was interviewed today for an article on stroke. I met with a journalist at the public library downtown and we talked for about an hour and a half as she scribbled notes in her book, a book made from discarded Asian woven plastic rice bags by the look of it.
When I called her to arrange the appointment, I asked her if she'd be bringing an audio recorder. That way I could decide on the right place for us to meet. In other words, how quiet did the building we were going to be talking in need to be? She said she did it the old-fashioned way, with pen and paper. We decided to meet at the library. "The one downtown that was recently redone?" "Yes, that library," I said. I got there early and staked out a space in the atrium: four ample modern orange chairs around a low and broad square table. A hair more slanted and I'd have called them recliners. These weren't recliners. These were chairs. But they reclined a little. Perfect for conversation.