I flew back from Los Angeles to London last week in economy class.  Whilst the British Airways flight was like hell on earth, it does only last 10 hours and you save a lot of money by flying economy.  However, amongst all the screaming & fidgeting & general bad behaviour that was taking place in front of me and behind me, my neighbour in the window seat (I was in the middle seat of three) was the exemplary travel companion and a joy to sit next to.  Why was this?

I’ll tell you why. 

She got onto the plane, was polite & said hello and then she got into her seat, got her pillow out, switched the tv on, put her headphones in & went to sleep.

We exchanged a few words during the night when the toddler in the seat in front of us was jumping on his seat facing us & screaming (his mother was watching a film – I guess she’d probably gone beyond the end of her tether & was doing her best) but apart from that we had no conversation until 20 minutes before the plane landed in London after we’d both been down to the bathrooms for a wash & a spruce up.

We’d passed trays & got up to let each other in & out but that was the extent of our interaction for 9½ of our 10 hours together.

Once we got chatting, it was nice to talk.  She was very pleasant & I’m sure we had a lot in common.  However, I’d rather be wishing I’d talked to my travel companion more having missed the opportunity than wishing I could move seats from someone I really don’t want to talk to for a 10 hour stretch.

I notice Dutch airline KLM launched their “Meet and Seat” app in December.  This will allow passengers to select seating neighbours having browsed their Facebook profiles.  I know what I’d be looking for.  Interested to hear what everyone else thinks on this topic.  I’ve heard fabulous Sir Ken Robinson mention his views and I know they are similar to mine – but maybe some of you like to find a chatterbox.  Funny long haul flight stories encouraged!

At the American Irish Foundation gala dinner in Washington DC last Wednesday night I was lucky enough to be seated next to one of Ireland’s cherished treasures – classical pianist, eternal optimist & the greatest living interpreter of Beethoven’s piano music, John O’Conor.  Sitting on my other side was John Nolan from Dublin’s National Concert Hall.  When he found out that I wasn’t aware of John’s fame (I know – I was excruciatingly embarrassed by my ignorance of classical music and its main players) he described John O’Conor as “being like a god that had stepped down from Olympus to grace us with his presence” – quite a big sell then – no pressure John!

I’d attended an “Unlocking Creativity” event in Derry earlier in March hosted by the magical Sir Ken Robinson and I’d been fascinated by the story that Ken had told us about Bart Conner, the American gymnast, and his journey to becoming a world class athlete and multi Olympic medal winner.  In a nutshell, Bart’s mother had noticed he had a talent for gymnastics when he was a very young boy & had enrolled him in a gym early doors rather than force him to continue with school and academic studies to the exclusion of all else.  That led to Bart being “spotted” by a coach when he was 10 and the rest is history.  This caused me to ask John about his own career journey as to be honest, becoming a world famous concert pianist is pretty unusual.  He told me that he was fortunate enough to have a mother that encouraged John & his sisters to try out many non academic things when they were children – so as a result John had learned tin whistle, elocution, singing, Irish dancing and the viola as well as the piano; his sisters learned the violin, cello and ballet.  Indeed, John O’Conor is quoted as saying the hardest part of achieving his music degree was the academic side – as all he really wanted to do was play his instrument.

This reminded me of another of Sir Ken’s stories when as a student in the 1970s he approached a guy playing keyboards in a pub band in Liverpool one night.  He said to the chap “I’d love to be able to do what you do” and the keyboard player said to him that if he’d love to do it that much, he’d be doing it too.  He went on to explain that he’d started playing when he was 5 years old, practiced 5 hours a day come hell or high water & gigged 6 nights a week.  Sir Ken’s point is that when you’re engaged in something that you love, it isn’t in fact work at all.

All this does of course link back to Malcolm Gladwell’s idea in his book Outliers of the 10,000 hours a person needs to put in before they will be good at something – so when you’re choosing a career, you’d better be careful and pick something that you love or you’ll never be good enough at it.  Harsh but true.  I asked John O’Conor about the difference between good and great pianists and he said it’s practice – not magic or anything secret – it’s simply constant daily practice that makes you truly good at the thing you already love – and if you don’t love it enough, you won’t practice enough – and that’s the bottom line.  John says that the great pianists have never had to be told to practice – they just want to do it – all day every day.

I appreciate that the photo of us is a bit strange.  It’s because I wanted to photograph the great man’s hands...Thanks for your company in Washington John and John!

I confessed to John as the evening went on that my own piano teacher had taken my mother to one side after I’d been attending lessons for about 3 years and said “Mrs McKenna, you’re wasting your money here.  Don’t bring her back any more.”  He was right and it was lovely of him to be that honest with my poor mum who really couldn’t spare the money for the lessons, but wanted her daughters to learn more than academic stuff.

I know this is a topic that generates a lot of discussion so I can’t wait to read your comments.  Keep your stories coming – I love to read them.