One of my favorite writers is Eric Hoffer — I guess by now you know that, if you read this corner of the “rag” much.
Eric was fond of saying, “Sure I get some of my writings from books — ideas at least; but mostly from the “book of the world,” in which I live.” Hoffer was an itinerant California fruit and vegetable picker in his early life. When he left New York at the age of fifteen, he had regained his eyesight — he was blind ’till then. It was a God-send.