As I write these words, the Class of 2018 prepares to march onto the old Kienle Field at Lindenhurst Middle School to the familiar strains of Pomp & Circumstance. In just a few short hours, they will embark on the next chapter of their lives, as proud alumni of Lindy High, the last dozen or so years of schooling an already-fading memory. 

“I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.” ~ Douglas Adams

As I sat in the audience at the recent Press Club of Long Island awards ceremony last week, intently listening to the words of one of our Hall of Fame honorees, the legendary writer and reporter Harvey Aronson, I was struck by the notion that one could choose a particular career to pursue and, so many years later {at the tender age of 89}, remain just as devoutly passionate about it. As he eloquently put it, “I wanted to be a writer… and so I became one.” 

I recently listened in on a rather interesting Press Club of Long Island panel discussion, highlighting the process which went into investigating a cold case that had gone unsolved for over 50 years on the east end of Long Island. The teamwork between reporters and the police department eventually resulted in the case being “cracked,” so to speak, and the unsolved murder put to rest.

Triskaidekaphobia: fear of the number 13

I’ve known many people with an aversion to this perceived “unlucky” number, whether serving as a date of particular significance or - the more common superstition - when it should happen to fall on a Friday, of all days. Personally, I’ve taken special care to note any particularly negative occurrences on these infrequent juxtapositions of day and date, with thankfully few to report. Just another day, as they say.