My Sunday Times

There are few things that bring me joy like the Sunday New York Times. When I lived in Lower Manhattan, the Sunday Times meant a brief respite from boat work. It meant a few hours with a bagel in North Cove Marina as I read the thing from front to back. It was one of the great perks that came with my bookstore job. This morning, it meant finding one on my driveway with my name inside.

I think the video misses the part where I show the list to the camera. Maybe it was as nervous and excited as I was.

2 responses to “My Sunday Times”

  1. Wow! What an unbelievable feeling that must have been. But my real question is: what was the mailman’s reaction when he saw you in the tree stand with binoculars awaiting his arrival?

  2. Oh man! I rarely ever look at the Bestseller List in the Times (or elsewhere, for that matter). Wish I would have so I could have seen your name and celebrated with a hearty shout, a happy dance, and a High Five to, well, my dogs, I guess.

    Still, how awesome! Congrats. :)

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