There were two things that really excited me when I was a youngster — food and Sunday morning newspapers. We didn’t get the newspaper, but my grandmother did. She lived about a half an hour from our house but, regardless of the weather, I would walk over to her house to read the newspaper.

In the relatively small Midwestern town in which I grew up, there wasn’t a lot of new activity happening — but the newspaper was always new. I also read comic books I had collected after my buddies had gotten full of its adventure. After I finished reading it, I stacked it with the dozens of other ones I had collected. I remember having two stacks of comic books, about a yard high, and my mother never understood that that was my “treasure.” One day I came home and my mother had thrown them all away. “Kept getting in my way,” she said.

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(1) comment

bc

I loved the comics too, and we called them in New York the "funny papers". Still read one or two for fun. Writing and penning them is a real skill. Ah the joys of a real paper newspaper! In my second book, "Pickle Barrel Tales", I even devoted a chapter to that chapter of childhood.

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