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COLUMNIST: Let's all 'go do something fun'

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I learn something every year. I learn over and over that words can come in handy. Sometimes. When, that is, they come in at all. Sometimes they don't come. Sometimes you despair at ever finding anything to write about, or if you do, finding the words with which to do it.


I once read a story about James Joyce, a Dead Poet of some fame. A friend came into his writing place and saw him slumped over his desk, agonizing over his writing.

"What's wrong?" asked the friend.

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