EARLIER this week, I teased on my social handle about my encounter with a deity. Of course, not in the sense that one might meet a deity in the groove of a village forest.
It wasn’t long before Uncle Sam emerged from the corridor, his imminent presence announced by the barking of a puddle that first accosted me when I climbed the stairs. The puddle was not here when I visited a few years ago.I replied, smiling, that 88 was good on him. He corrected me: “I’m 89!” He then tore a packet of Kemps crackers and sat on the bed-shaped cane chair to my right, waving the young man who had followed behind to make him some tea.
In a tribute to Breslin, The Guardian wrote that he was the champion of the trials and troubles of the ordinary people in New York. “He filled his columns with gangsters and thieves, whom he knew first-hand from drinking in the same bars. He told stories that smacked of blarney behind their anger.” In yielding, I wondered what I could do differently. In recent times, I have been invited by universities and professional groups to speak on the challenges facing journalists and young writers, especially in light of the extraordinary explosion in the use of artificial intelligence in the workplace, at school and at home.
It draws not only on my personal experience – struggles and triumphs – I also interviewed professionals across age brackets who generously shared their experiences with me.