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Small-Town Life.

I was dropping off campaign letters at the post office when I was told by the lady at the counter, “Just hold on a second, I’ll get your mail” – this from someone I’ve never been formally introduced to, though she sure got the right person’s mail out.  When she saw I had campaign materials to send out, she told the deliveryman to hold on – “it’s political mail it has to go out today.”  So he waited for a few moments while we got stamps on all the letters.  In the meantime, a newbie in town walked in the door and asked me about my Princeton Alumni Magazine – “Did you actually go to Princeton? What did you study there?” – which elicited a blurb autobiography: “My two interests were Latin and nature, and in the past few years while I’ve been up here I’ve found that botany has really bridged that gap very well, and this is a great place to botanize.”  Then the deliveryman got into it: “Ah, that explains all those postcards you get in Latin.”  I was known apparently as “the guy who gets postcards in Latin.”  Love love love.  Small-town life.

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