I Feel Like I Know You & I was Worried

Welcome back Al Martinez; I’m glad to see you published in today’s LA Times, here. You may think it odd that a stranger was worrying about you. But, it’s true. Who knew what had become of you since you last wrote in your column in early June? I searched for your columns to no avail. My first thought, of course, was that you were on vacation. But then a scintilla of worry crept in that maybe you or family had become sick, or worse died. I kept an eye out in case your photo appeared in the obit section of the paper. That’s the sort of thinking that becomes more prevalent as your face begins sporting more lines and when we males begin sprouting hair in hitherto barren spots. Not that you are old, mind you. It’s just that you are a member of that Korean War age group, wedged between me and my Vietnam group and my father’s WWII group. And, my father is now gone.

I almost feel as if we are friends. Of course, we are not. We’ve never met. Though we have exchanged a couple of e-mails, not that you should remember. You and I have a slightly different perspective on some things, and I so enjoy your writing. There have been times when you have moved me to tears. And, other times when I just did not agree with you. I am sure that you must receive more comment on your positions than you care to hear. So, let me just say this: You are obviously a man of principle, honesty and goodwill with a big heart.

I’m glad that you are back and may you continue to share yourself with the world in one way or the other for many years to come. I’d toast you with a martini, except I don’t drink them. Would a Negra Modelo do?