As a writer, I’ve
been active on the Internet since the early 2000s. I’ve pushed my writing out
there, seen it sink and swim, swirl in the eddy of obscurity, rise to win an
award, and then quickly submerge again. It’s a bit like throwing a bottle of
writing into the ocean, but with more islands about, more opportunities for
someone to find your water logged draft, although your chances are still slightly better than winning the lottery.
During the last
14 years, I’ve googled myself many times. Okay yes, vanity does play a part,
but, in my own defense, I have also found several instances of having my
represented plays produced without…representation. So there is a practical side
to my self-searches.
In my searches, I
have become acquainted with a number of other Andreinis. There’s Jacabo Andreini, a progressive musician (bass, I think)
who plays venues around the world. There’s Flavio Andreini, an actor who had a
part in the 1978 version of Inglorious Bastards (pre-Tarantino). And there was
Eddie Andreini, the pilot. Eddie Andreini was a highly experienced aviator who
was a regular at air shows for decades. My vain queries would include his
appearance at a show in Lodi or Redding or Las Vegas. He was a master at his
craft, an ace pilot who entertained many at air shows around the country with
acrobatics that would make me throw up in my face. But he was an Andreini. And
he died this past weekend, doing what he does, flying. He crashed at a show at
Travis Air Force Base. He was 77 years old and still flying.
I didn’t know
Eddie, but I followed his career for nearly fifteen years. So there you go. The Internet brings people together who would surely
have never met otherwise. We share a name, Eddie. Go in peace.
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