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.