By Jeff Ruffolo
As the nature of my world, I travel.
A lot.
As such I am always hungry – no, not for food – but for the printed word. Some people get their news visually and carry their computer pad along with them wherever they go. For me – nothing is better than a good ‘ole newspaper to chew through. I will read it all – from front to back and everything in-between.
It is it an extra-long flight – say from America to China, that I will stop at one of the numerous booksellers at Los Angeles International Airport and grab at least three newspapers and make it a personal rule not to look at any of them until I am on board the flight and my evening meal is served. I may sleep a bit, be awake a bit, but for the most part I will have my face shoved into one of those newspapers and won’t finish until my fingers are black with newsprint ink.
Reading in all its glorious forms takes on a special meaning for me when I am in a metal tube with wings … being hurtled at hundreds of miles an hour at 35,000 feet in the middle of the massive Pacific Ocean. It is somehow comforting knowing that the world I left behind is somehow connected to the world that I will be going to by a simple newspaper.
