Driving north now to try to catch some fall foliage. But will post the first part of a new Saturday Story tomorrow. Then back to the blog-grind on Monday.
When I was seven, my father began to leave a copy of the "New York Times" on the breakfast table each morning before he went to work. Unread copies piled up for three years. At ten I began to peek at the sports pages: poring over Dodgers, Giants, and Yankees scores. Later, I glanced at other sections, and by age 20 I was addicted. At 40, I had my first Letter to the Editor published--it was about Israel bombing Iran's nuclear reactor. (How times haven't changed!) My father called from Florida to tell me he saw the letter and that he was proud of me. That was the first time he said that. It made me cry but also kept me reading the paper every day. Now this blog. I hope he would be proud of this too.
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