Mom leaves me message on cell: the famous "Under the Bridge" column of the Boscobel Dial, my hometown paper, is wall-to-wall excerpts from my "State of the World" piece in the May issue of Esquire.

To you, nothing.

To me, priceless.

Happens just as my Mom is trying to sell her house (I spent three years of HS there) and move to the Twin Cities to live with one of my sisters. When that happens, it won't much matter if I can't go home again. There just won't be a home there.

So I'm glad I worked in this lifetime achievement quasi-award while Mom was still there, getting the Dial.