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If we live long enough, it all comes back to family. Life can circle the globe many times over, it can change justlikethat, its potential limited only by our imagination and ambition. Eventually, all that spinning stops mattering. All that’s left is all that’s required. . . a cluster of people who share a mutual, enduring bond. Folks who’ll be there when you’re ready to leave.
I’m being honored tonight. The local chapter of the Society of Professional Journalists has decided I’m worthy of its Hall of Fame. Basically, that means I’m old, have been here a long time and apparently haven’t wrecked the furniture. That said, I am honored and grateful for the award. And, as I get really old, for the furniture. I’m grateful for that, metaphorically and otherwise. Life is good in a leather recliner.
What’s best about it the honor is not the recognition itself, but the company I get to share it with. Solo honors are empty things. I can’t imagine receiving tonight’s honor without my family there to share in it. For better or worse, they’ve made me who I am.
Here’s a little of what I might say tonight. For what it’s worth.
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