I must admit to some trepidation when asked to read and review Neal
Schier’s new work entitled The Outer Whorl. I have read many "Airline
Pilot" biographies and to pinch a phrase from Mr. Schier’s writing, my
bookshelves groan under the weight of them. Many of the memoirs are so
formulaic and predictable because they follow the same standard script:
“I always wanted to fly since before I could walk so I saved money from
my paper route to buy flying lessons, despite my parent’s objections
and the next thing I was piloting a 747 into London on a dark and
stormy evening.”
It was difficult to be a young man far from home in a strange land and
who did not eat fish. Fish and seafood that was neither baked nor
broiled, neither glazed nor grilled, and particularly fish that had
never felt the warmth of a good cooking—in other words raw.
Globalization…class divide…bankruptcies…high stakes…crumbling dreams… These are the words and images that come to mind when filmmaker Dawn Mikkelson focuses her camera on the Northwest airline’s current situation between top brass and union workers.
Features 
It was difficult to be a young man far from home in a strange land and
who did not eat fish. Fish and seafood that was neither baked nor
broiled, neither glazed nor grilled, and particularly fish that had
never felt the warmth of a good cooking—in other words raw. 