In my formative years, I never got the chance to spend quality time with my maternal or paternal grandparents. I only vaguely remember my maternal grandfather who died just before my 12th birthday. I remember him, mostly, because of his disappointing death before my 12th birthday—disappointed that he died before giving me the usual penny for each of my birthdays. I mention my grandparents because I’ve longed to sit and listen to an elder’s thoughts and deductions about the world we live in. Even though Dick Gregory is not old enough to be even my father, I somehow feel his demeanor is the closest I may come to satisfying that longing. I’m receptive to his thoughts which stir my reasonings. I’m also aware of my responsibility, as a publisher, to share information that my friends may also find worthy of thoughtfulness.
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