Shelf Awareness: My 2025 Reading Highlights

As the final days and hours of 2025 fall away I am celebrating a small victory.

I read 59 books during the year, meeting an impromptu New Year's resolution to read a book a week. That quickly morphed into five books per month. It's just a nice round number.

I hit it on the dot every month except January (go figure!) and September (football). I managed six books for the first time in December, no doubt motivated by the anticipation of a new pile of books under the Christmas tree.

I started reading two books at once late in 2023, and I alternate chapters. It's a concession to my ADD and keeps me motivated to check off chapters.

In past years I consistently read between 28 and 32 books annually. I would sometimes lose weeks mired in the middle of an 800-page book with no ending near. My chapter plan and monthly goals keep things moving by providing regular rewards.

I adjust as needed. If a book has short chapters, 10 pages or less, I'll read two for one. Richard Osman's "Thursday Murder Club" series averages about four pages per chapter. I am reading his books at a 4-to-1 chapter ratio.

Pairing my books is also great fun. I often go for opposite subjects and styles, but some books just beg to be read together. Earlier this year I paired Frank McCourt's memoir, "'Tis" with "The Immortal Irishman," Timothy Egan's biography of Thomas Francis Meagher.

It was only after putting the just-read "'Tis"  on my bookshelf that I discovered I already owned the book in paperback. So, I either acquired the book at some point and forgot, or worse, acquired it and read it and forgot, then bought it and reread it a second time.

These are the hazards of life at 57. Hopefully, it's the former, as McCourt's writing style, full of conversational Limerick-isms, is quite unforgettable.

I've seen a few of these reading roundups here, and enjoy reading the recommendations. In that spirit, I'll add my own list. This is not a list of my favorite books, nor are they books published in 2025. Just reading highlights from the year.

1. "Alfred and Emily," by Doris Lessing. This was not a book I wanted to read. It lingered in my unread pile for a couple of years at least. It turned out to be one of the most unique and creative things I've ever encountered. This book won the 2007 Nobel Prize for Literature so I'm obviously not overselling this.

Lessing splits this story of Alfred and Emily, her parents, into two nearly equal parts. The first half tells a fictional story of how they might have met. A dreamy and delightful tale of separate lives lived during World War I. The second half is a memoir of the real and mostly unhappy lives of Alfred and Emily, told via recollections from Lessing herself.

A most difficult format, but Lessing pulls it off.

2. "An Army at Dawn," by Rick Atkinson. A 2003 Pulitzer Prize winner from the celebrated Atkinson. This one got personal, leading me to make a February trip to College Park, Md. to research my father's World War II records. After several hours of searching I found what I was looking for: Jesse Hilton was delivered to the USS Brooklyn on Feb. 22, 1943 for his first day in the war.

From Atkinson I learned that the battle for North Africa, and likely the entire arc of the war to come, tilted the Allies way on Feb, 22, 1943 when they chased Rommel during the Battle of Kasserine Pass.

The things you learn by opening a book.

3. "Thursday Murder Club," by Richard Osman. I read more fiction during 2025 than at least the past five years put together. That trend originated with a book borrowed from the New Cumberland Library last winter. I generally favor nonfiction and opportunities to learn interesting things.

But reading can be fun, a fact Osman reminded me with this series. I read two TMC books in 2025 and plan to crack the third early in the new year. Meanwhile, Osman is keeping fans busy with a fifth book planned in 2026.

I found myself at a spring book bag sale and out of obvious choices. So, I grabbed a John le Carre book, "The Tailor of Panama." It was great! I bought and read le Carre's classic novel, "The Spy Who Came in From the Cold." Then I bought and read a John Grisham novel, "The Juror."

I learned in 2025 that I like spy and murder mystery novels.

4. "Life," by Keith Richards. If you read enough of these so-called "tell all" celebrity memoirs you realize they generally don't tell much at all.

Then there's Keith. The stories are juicy and wild enough to be nearly unbelievable, until you remember that it's Keith Richards. Like the time he conspired to "hide" sax man and drug buddy Bobby Keys on a big Stones' tour. Mick had banned the troublesome Keys. Keith describes Mick noticing Keys on stage mid-song. Funny stuff.

The drug tales are as wild as expected (Keith and Keys once set a bathroom on fire while cooking dope). But there's also some real meat to this "Life." I did not know, for example, how much writing Richards did on a lot of the Stones' biggest hits. Keith is an insatiable reader. I also did not know that Mick and Keith's relationship largely ended around 1980. For sure, there's brotherly love there deep down, but they have basically been business partners for the past 45 years.

5. "Hellhound on His Trail", nonfiction by Hampton Sides. This true story adventure of the months prior to James Earl Ray murdering Martin Luther King, and the weeks afterward, is told with meticulous reporting and vivid storytelling.

Sides is a very underrated historian, in my opinion. Several years ago, I read "Kingdom of Ice," his story of a doomed voyage to the North Pole, and it stuck with me. "Hellhound" will, as well.

Ray was such a complicated character, equal parts canny and dimwitted. He successfully escaped from maximum security prisons multiple times. Yet, he was dumb enough to dump the rifle used to kill MLK in a store vestibule as he made his escape. It gave lawmen crucial evidence with which to track Ray.

In a tight 400 pages, Sides tells a story that feels packed with every important detail. He also manages mini-profiles of important actors in the assassination-and-chase drama, including Attorney General Ramsey Clark, Memphis Mayor Henry Loeb and MLK lieutenant Ralph Abernathy, among others.

Phillies 2023 season in review

 

Just a few games remain in what looks to be another (regular-season) step forward for the Phightin Phils.

That's not to say it hasn't been an at-times tortuous ride through 155 games to date. The biggest stars seemed to frustrate us the most. Aaron Nola never seemed to figure things out. Thankfully, Trea Turner and Bryce Harper did.

22-27 evolved to 85-69 with a week remaining to get to 90.

Raucous crowds remain a consistently loud presence at The Bank, fans fired up by the 2022 World Series run. Attendance is up 9,700 per game, tops in Major League Baseball.

So what went right, wrong and completely sideways? Let's play four questions:

1. What is the best thing that happened in 2023? This one is pretty easy. The development of young talent in-house is something this organization failed to do with any consistency for the past 15 years. The combination of Brian Barber and Preston Mattingly appear to be turning that around in a big way.

Start with Bryson Stott, a smooth, five-tool infielder already producing at an All-Star level. Challenge a friend to name who leads the Phillies' position players in WAR and you might win a free drink.

But the depth of emerging talent goes well beyond Stott. It is layered throughout the system. Johan Rojas skipped Triple A and is claiming the centerfielder-of-the-future job with stunning defensive stats. Despite just 130 at-bats, Rojas's WAR equals the combined WAR of Alec Bohm, Nick Castellanos and Kyle Schwarber

Christopher Sanchez leads the pitching staff in ERA, repaying the organization for its multi-year investment of time.

2022 draft pick Orion Kerkering is already in the Phillies' bullpen, while 2020 first-rounder Mick Abel is finishing the year on a heater. OF Justin Crawford and IF Aiden Miller both look like first-round hits from 2022-23.

2. What is the worst thing that happened in 2023? It's tempting to point to the spring training injury to Rhys Hoskins. But the lineup has adapted well. Nola is a frustrating problem. But it might be a good thing to see that decline in the final year of a contract.

Therefore, my most unwelcome development is Andrew Painter and Tommy John. Crushing because it knocked the young man out for 2024 as well. A pill made more bitter by the recognition that it probably could have been avoided. Pumping up Painter's potential rotation spot did nothing but add pressure to a 20-year-old where none was needed. Just unnecessary.

3. What is the biggest offseason decision? The futures of longtime fixtures Hoskins and Nola is going to dominate December media coverage. I would make qualifying offers to both and take the draft pick if they move on. It's a cold business.

I would not be completely shocked if they signed Hoskins to a short-term deal, then traded Rojas or Marsh for a young, controllable starting pitcher. Both are exciting, young OF talents, but it's a better-balanced roster if they could swap one for a similarly talented pitcher.

4. How far will the Phillies advance in the postseason? I will never forget how the 2022 postseason began: Hoskins striking out leading off the 9th inning with the Phils down 2-0. I turn off the TV and storm outside, only to return after J.T. Realmuto strokes a single to left. Several crazy at-bats later, the Phils walked away with a 6-2 victory and the run was ignited.

Could it happen again? It could. But nobody can reasonably predict it. On paper, the Phillies pitching rules it out. It's not nearly good enough.

This run ends in the Divisional Round.

I am officially worried about Trea Turner (there, I said it)

If there was a stat created and assigned to hitters fooled so badly they swing and miss the ball by a foot or more, it might be known as a "fool swing."

This generally happens when hitters are guessing fastball, or think they see a fastball, and level up to meet it in the zone. It also happens to hitters who have lost some reaction time and need to start their swing earlier in order to meet a good fastball.

Trea Turner most certainly leads the Phillies in fool swings. It's a troubling trend for a player who turned 30 years old June 30 and has 10 years and $272.7 million remaining.

Turner is having a terrible first year in Philly pinstripes. But any tendency toward panic is somewhat muted by the Nick Castellanos experience. One year after signing a big contract and flopping, Casty is an All Star.

There is some general confidence among fans and media that Turner will similarly rebound. I am not so sure.

For starters, Castellanos was hit on the wrist May 5 last year, possibly explaining his hitting difficulties. Turner appears fully healthy.

Then there's the strikeouts. Turner's K percentage is trending in a very bad direction: 13.9% in 2020 to 17% to 18.5% to 23.8% this year. Further evidence that Trea is being overwhelmed by the fastball and fooled by the low-and-away breaking pitches.

Power hitters who can't meet a good fastball sometimes go sideways very quickly.

I grew up watching Dale Murphy mash his way to back-to-back MVPs. Then suddenly, at age 32, the magic evaporated. Murph could still hit one out every so often, but good fastballs gave him trouble and he became an average player overnight.

He hit .295 with 44 homers at age 31, then fell off to 24 homers and a .226 batting average a year later.

I don't know enough about hitting to know how to fix Trea. I do know the speed is still really good (21-21 in steals) and I do know that 10 home runs is not a good return on a 24% K rate.

I sorta think he needs a swing change. Perhaps flipping the launch angle craze in favor of a put-the-ball-in-play swing. Something shorter and level that puts more balls in play and takes advantage of the speed.

Trea hit 49 homers in 2021-22 and perhaps he sees himself as a power hitter. At times he certainly looks like a hitter trying to hit a $300 million-worthy, upper-deck blast with every pitch.

Maybe it's big-contract stress. Maybe I'm overreacting. Thirty years old is still pretty young to be losing reaction time.

But I am officially worried. 

Joel Embiid's horrible, no-good, very bad week

 

The National Basketball Association is the ultimate individual-focused team sport.

It is the team sport with the fewest starting players, a sport that showcases marvelous team play at times.

But when the NBA Playoffs turn into a grinding possession battle, it's about your star. Can your star be tougher, more clutch, and more productive than the opponent's star?

NBA history is filled with legends who passed this test, from Larry Bird to Michael Jordan to Jimmy Butler and Steph Curry today. 

Joel Embiid failed this test in a major way the past week. More than that, he regressed into an oblivious mass of denial that leads this fan to wonder if he will ever play one minute of conference finals basketball -- let alone be fitted for a gaudy champion's ring.

A Boston-Philadelphia series that began with destiny calling -- a Game One victory, on the road, while Embiid rested -- descended into a nightmare of shrinking superstars, self-denial and finally, a full on-court Roberto Duran-like 'No mas' lay down.

To be sure, there is a lot of blame beyond Embiid for this debacle. James Harden's schizophrenic output in the series defies description.

People smarter than me say Doc Rivers is a terrible big-game coach. Could be accurate.

But Joel Embiid is Superstar No. 1, the NBA scoring champ and Most Valuable Player. Joel has the most responsibility, is the franchise spokesman, and had the roster and an offense built around him and for him.

He asked for all of these things, and eagerly embraced being the face of The Process. A genial, fun-loving fellow, Joel could be the hero or the villain, as the moment dictated.

We naturally assumed that titles would follow. Embiid is perhaps the most physically skilled basketball player in the world. He has an Ohtani-like ability to be the best player on the court at every skill at a given moment.

But the titles didn't come. Disappointment persisted, with the Sixers getting bounced in the semifinals four of the last five years.

All of that was a distant memory with 4:24 remaining in Game Six Thursday night. Holding an 83-81 lead in front of a manic home crowd, the Sixers were going to win and advance. Nobody watching this scene unfold had any doubt about the outcome.

Instead, the Sixers were outscored 14-1 before a meaningless final bucket from a bench player. Embiid did not touch the ball after missing a 19-footer with 3:53 remaining.

The weak responses continued in the postgame presser.

"I didn't touch the ball at all," Embiid told reporters.

There are two reasons why that is just about the worst thing The Star can say at that moment. For starters, it sounds like you're evading accountability, which I think Embiid was doing. So much for leadership.

Secondly, it at least half sounds like you're tossing your teammates under the SEPTA bus, which I do not think he was doing. Still, I am sure some of those guys heard one or both of these messages and did not like it. It's a foxhole, right?

Everything that happened after 10 p.m. Thursday night landed like repeated grenades on the Joel Embiid Era. Forget Game Seven. After what happened Thursday, they had no chance to win in Boston.

I have questions. I wonder if Joel was exhausted, a Game Four issue that drew a PJ Tucker on-court rebuke:

Most of all, I just want to know why Embiid did not demand the ball? During the final five minutes Thursday, the Sixers looked hopelessly lost and disorganized. The entire nine years since Joel Embiid was drafted were leading to this moment, when he would stand up and deliver a victory. Instead, he drifted into the background, then whined about it afterward.

Dennis Johnson tells a story about the time Celtics' head coach KC Jones was having trouble drawing up a last-second play that would decide a close game. Finally, an exasperated Bird piped up and said, "Just give me the ball, coach, and the rest of you fucking guys get out of the way."

This is not Joel Embiid. Am I being overly dramatic here? I don't think so:

I like Joel Embiid. I genuinely do. But his career arc has stalled and regressed significantly in the past four days. This was his time, this was the Sixers' time, and the last person who seemed to realize it was Joel Embiid himself. That's not good.

And for the first time, Joel seems to be losing the Philadelphia fan. Thousands voted in a WIP poll today asking who deserves more blame: Embiid, Harden or Doc. Joel leads with 72%.

It feels like a crossroads of sorts.

Where do the Sixers go from here?

For the first time since The Process began a decade ago, the Sixers enter the off-season with no obvious path closer to a title.

Harden is probably gone. Rivers might be, too. I guess the obvious strategy is to rebuild around your star.

I guess.

But what do you do when the one thing you need from your leader is to lead?

My Very Boss Set List

I am way more excited than a 54-year-old man should be for a concert.

After all, I've been attending shows since May 9, 1989 when Cinderella, Winger and Bullet Boys headlined the Broome County (N.Y.) Arena.

When your live music life starts with Marq Torien singing "Smooth Up in Ya," there truly is no place to go but up.

I eventually became more discriminating as the years and The Black Crows, Robert Plant and ZZ Top shows came and went. The Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan are the last two concerts I attended.

Only legends now and Bruce Springsteen might be the last concert for me. In 141 days.

The internet tells me that appropriate fanboy behavior includes creating your own dream set list. This is mine:

Badlands

My Lucky Day

Growin' Up

My show kicks off with "Badlands" and there is no other option. This arena-ready, butt-hopping classic gets our show off the ground in high-energy fashion and reminds us that it's Saturday night and it ain't no sin to be glad you're alive.

"My Lucky Day" is a fun, hopeful, uptempo rocker and only here because it's a current favorite. It's my set list and I reserve the right to change it right up to March 18, 2023, which is just 141 days away. Have I mentioned that?

We next reach into the back of the Boss vault for "Growin' Up." I am imagining Bruce changing some lyrics to remind us that we're all grown up now. Our opening three-song salvo has us in the mood for a badass show.

Prove it All Night

Burnin' Train

Ghosts

Land of Hopes and Dreams

Bruce and the E Streeters might be Medicare eligible, but they still want to "Prove it All Night." And they do. This ain't no dream we're living through tonight.

My research shows seven songs performed more than 1,000 times by Springsteen and the band. We're going to give them a pair of new ones off the 2020 "Letter to You" release with "Burnin' Train" and "Ghosts." Just amazingly good.

This blistering set closes with a Sergio Leone-like tale of good guys, bad guys and the lure of redemption in "The Land of Hopes and Dreams." Get on your feet. You don't need no ticket. All you gotta do is just get on board.

Tenth Avenue Freeze Out

The Price You Pay

Darkness of the Edge of Town

Let's remember why we booked this show in the first place. Performed 1,111 times, "Tenth Avenue Freeze Out" might go on for 20 minutes, but we do not care. It's 2023 and Jake fills in admirably for the late, great Big Man.

"The Price You Pay" takes us on a journey about life, love and reminds us you can't always walk away.

"Darkness" might be the best song off the best album in the Boss catalog. It's peak songwriting Bruce, serving up small-town secrets with four minutes of pure power. The live execution is never quite as tight as the recorded version, but no show would be complete without it.

Independence Day

Thunder Road

Jersey Girl

Time to slow it down. The guys take a break and Bruce performs a stripped-down solo version of "Independence Day." First, he will tell a story about Douglas Springsteen, probably one we've heard already. We're okay with it.

Bruce turns the piano over to professor Roy Bittan for a terrific haunting version of "Thunder Road." And there's magic in the night.

We're close enough to their 32nd anniversary to hear Bruce sing "Jersey Girl" to Patti every night on the early part of this tour. 

Waitin' on a Sunny Day

Atlantic City

Trapped

The band comes roaring back with Soozie Tyrell's violin launching us into "Waitin' on a Sunny Day." We're gonna chase the clouds away.

Next, Bruce takes us to "Atlantic City" for a dark story of shady deals made by desperate people. The electric version of this classic song is perfect for the arena setting.

Time for our first cover, as the Boss delivers a scorching version of the Jimmy Cliff classic, "Trapped." I know someday we'll walk out of here again.

Racing in the Street

Born to Run

The Promised Land

Jungleland

Our night together is nearing the end but we've still got time to go "Racing in the Street." Out of our way, mister, you best keep.

Bruce has performed "Born to Run" an incredible 1,746 times, according to setlist.fm. It's never been a favorite of mine. Too overplayed and far too polished. Bruce recorded and re-recorded "Born" pieces for months and months and it sounds like it. That said, it is undeniably brilliant and the guys rip the roof off the Bryce Jordan with it.

I believe in "The Promised Land." And you will, too, after we sing it together amid this set of pure classics.

Surprisingly, "Jungleland" has only been played 645 times. I can't imagine my show without it.

Hungry Heart

Light of Day

Out in the Street

Allentown

Rosalita

Blood Brothers

Our show has come to a close and it's time for encores. In Bossland, the encores go for 5-7 songs, so it's another mini-concert here.

"Hungry Heart" is the first Springsteen song I remember, in a middle school music room in 1980. Bruce likes to turn it over to the crowd to sing the iconic opening lines. We be ready.

Encores are about cranking up the party fun and sending everyone home tired and happy. "Light of Day," a song Bruce wrote and gave to Joan Jett and Paul Schrader for their 1980s movie, and "Out in the Street" are pure foot-stomping fun.

"Allentown" isn't really close to State College, but Bruce takes us there with a brilliant Billy Joel cover.

One final trip back to the early days for "Rosalita." We ain't here on business, baby, we're only here for fun.

If you made it this far, we might be "Blood Brothers." My dream show ends like this:

A Perfectly Sane Trade Proposal

I love Aaron Nola.

I love how poised and controlled he is at all times. He's that kind of player who looks exactly the same whether he's throwing a perfect game, or getting bludgeoned for six runs.

I love that Nola seems like a really good dude. Cousin AJ Nola shared a story about Aaron in a 2018 interview with The Athletic. In 2016, AJ and her husband visited Philly and attended a game that saw Aaron get pounded for seven runs by the Nationals. The perfectionist pitcher kept them waiting two hours while he watched film.

Their dinner plans were delayed and words were exchanged. Nobody was in a good mood when they exited the player's parking lot. About 20 kids were hunting autographs at the gate. AJ assumed Aaron would keep driving, yet he stopped, got out and signed for every kid. A good dude.

Nola is pretty good on the bump, too. A true pitcher, Aaron throws a variety of different pitches from different angles, in and out, up and down.

But I think it might be time to trade Aaron Nola.

Keep in mind that I know this isn't going to happen. But I do think there's a team and a trade that makes great sense and could help the Phillies emerge from the malaise that has enveloped the organization.

Let me anticipate your incredulous objections to trading Nola to the Tampa Bay Rays.

1. The Rays don't trade for established veterans. This is generally very true. But the Rays have lost Tyler Glasnow, likely for 2022 as well. TB is a team that can go to the World Series again. They need a big dog pitcher and they have the assets to trade for one.

2. The Rays can't afford a big contract. Also generally very true. But Nola's roughly $36 million due through 2023 can fit in their budget, especially after the Phightins take back CF Kevin Kiermaier and the $30 million he is due over the same timeframe.

3. The Phils would be selling low. It might seem that way if you look at Aaron's 4.53 ERA and high-profile struggles, but the secondary numbers disagree. His 3.47 fielding-independent pitching is very good, and the strikeout-walk ratio is the best of his career. Nola is suffering from a .333 BAbip, or 50 points higher than last year. In short, he's had a lot of bad luck and the Rays know which numbers are important.

4. The Phils can't trade a frontline starter. It's a tough move to make for sure. Aaron Nola represents a rare draft coup amid a string of mistake picks since the Phils started this rebuild in 2013. In seven years of Nola leading this pitching staff, the Phils have yet to break .500. They lack good players, can't rely on the draft and are maxing out their budget. This is one way to add four good players for one big loss.

Nola's spot in the rotation would be filled by Shane Baz, the headline piece in return. In 11 starts split between AA/AAA, Baz has a 2.09 ERA with 77 Ks in 51.2 innings. Just 22, Baz is too young to be thrust into a pennant race, especially on a team already relying on heralded rookie starters Luis Patino and Shane McClanahan. The Rays cannot count on Rich Hill or Chris Archer (if he ever returns) beyond their next starts. They need a young veteran frontline SP to step into Glasnow's shoes. Nola moves a lot closer to his beloved Louisiana. This trade makes too much sense.

5. This trade makes no @%&#! sense! Look, the Phillies are in no man's land: they have too much money invested in stars like Zack Wheeler, JT Realmuto and, of course, $330 million-dollar-man Bryce Harper. Too much money invested in those players to do anything but go all-in to win.

What is frustrating is those stars have played like big-time stars. It's the average veteran, the solid player, the fourth starter where the squad is falling woefully short. They have little depth, the farm system is weaker than a Rich Kotite halftime adjustment and they have the league's worst defense by far. This four-for-Nola trade helps the Phils move forward and remain a contender.

Baz steps into the rotation (although maybe not until '22). Kiermaier gives the franchise its best defensive CF since Garry Maddox patrolled the Vet. While his overall offensive numbers are poor, KK is hitting .311 since June 11. The Rays, meanwhile, have a similar player in Manny Margot.

Joey Wendle gives Joe Girardi another plus plus defender who can play 2B, 3B, SS and even some outfield. The Rays have a glut of IFs and, with Wendle due a hefty arbitration raise, no doubt consider him expendable. JW could slot in at 3B for Philly in the likely event that Alec Bohm is moved to 1B. It sets up GM Dave Dombrowski to further improve the roster with a December trade of 1B Rhys Hoskins.

The Rays would add a decent prospect from their prospect-rich farm to complete this deal.

It's pure fantasy but it makes good sense to me.

What do you think?

My First Day In Journalism

 

I slowly climbed the rickety, wooden steps at the Castleton-on-Hudson village hall, and the wood stretched and screeched back at me with every step.

I was attending a meeting on the first night of my first day as the new reporter at The Independent of Hillsdale, N.Y. The date was Feb. 26, 1996. My territory was Rensselaer County, or at least the Southern slice of it.

Our little, twice-weekly tabloid was based on Columbia County, but the owners had designs on the Southern Rensselaer County commercial advertising market.

So, my reporting career was birthed. I was paid $300 a week. This is an actual conversation I had with the editor-in-chief Vicki Simons-Jones (more on this lady in a bit):

“Uh, is that before taxes or after?”

“Before.”

“Oh.”

So I would not get rich working for The Independent, but I would get experience. A meeting virtually every night, with hours and hours of unusable flex time as my reward. We published Mondays and Thursdays and Vicki would print as many stories as I could write.

It was amazing.

Back to Castleton and that first meeting.

I didn’t realize the implication at first (after all, I was greener than an Irish pub on St. Patrick’s Day), but this meeting was unusually packed for a Monday evening. But I quickly absorbed the tension in the air.

The reason soon revealed itself: hotshot, young, clean-up-this-town mayor was intent on ousting older, entrenched, get-off-my-lawn public works superintendent.

I had stumbled into a small-town showdown. At my very first meeting, no less -- what luck!

And then it got even better. Hotshot Mayor Keith Robinson had the good sense to shape his thoughts into a prepared statement.

A good idea because the room was decidedly on the side of strong, silent, superintendent guy. His name was Max something and he sat in the back with his arms folded across his chest. I think he was working on a toothpick.

Perhaps that made Keith nervous. Maybe Keith was an outsider in this town. I wasn’t that good of a reporter yet.

At any rate, he read what amounted to a public firing, which is incredibly uncomfortable to witness.

Mayor Keith got to the part where he wanted to say “this is a personnel decision.” So, you know, not at all related to the plainly obvious fact that I do not like this guy and want him to know this is my town.

Except Keith misspoke and he said, “this is a personal decision.” Oops, I believe they call that a Freudian slip. Like where you say what you really mean and not the BS you’ve carefully put to paper.

I don’t remember many details of that long-ago meeting, but I can still see poor Keith’s reaction to his gaffe. He stammered and nervously chuckled a bit. And he got very red in the face.

But nobody else laughed. It was that kind of a meeting.

****

I don’t know what happened Mayor Keith or whether Castleton ever completed its riverfront master plan that village board members endlessly debated at every meeting. I searched for that first Max Fired story this morning and cannot locate it.

Many bylines have come and gone in the 25 years since that first meeting. Most of them are published only on the internet now.

Looking back, it was an interesting first job. I never really had a traditional post-college job search. I applied at The Independent soon after starting my final class and my professor, Joel Kaplan, told me that if I got the job, not to come back to school.

I only attended five classes and he gave me an A- anyway.

The best part of journalism is the people you meet. The people you meet while reporting and writing 300 stories annually, give or take, and the characters you work alongside.

The Independent no longer exists. It was created and run by Vicki Simons-Jones and Tony Jones, a pair of Yale graduates and dreamers who were way smarter than the rest of us.

He was the publisher and the businessman; She was the editor.

I had never met anyone like Vicki.

****

She had a penchant for dropping F bombs during our morning meeting, usually when a reporter said supervisor so-and-so wasn’t returning their calls. After that, you would usually get your call returned.

“Tough but fair” applied to Vicki. She was tall and blonde. She was brilliant and her mind worked very fast. Her office was on the second floor of an open floor plan. The sight of Vicki walking down the steps on deadline day caused rippling panic on the newsroom side.

She would stand over you and ask questions about your story. It was terrific training and I liked her. Not everyone did.

Vicki always knew what she wanted, and she always knew what you were capable of. She persistently expected the two to happily meet. As long as they did, she was a tremendous leader and editor.

I was three weeks into the job when my mother had a heart attack and went into emergency quadruple bypass surgery. I felt very responsible for my beat and the stories I had in progress. Just go, Vicki ordered, and don’t come back until you’re ready to.

****

This little country weekly tabloid in Nowhere, N.Y. was very successful. At one point we had four reporters – all Syracuse University graduates. One went back to law school and is a very successful lawyer in Syracuse. Another became the Associated Press fashion reporter in New York City.

The truth is, I wasn’t really happy during my 32 months living in Columbia County, N.Y. It was an upstate getaway hamlet for wealthy city residents. It was not a great place to be young, single and making $300 a week.

Professionally, I have often viewed this period of my career as a disappointment bordering on a waste of time.

I can see now that it really wasn’t that at all.