One of the things I've really enjoyed as an author is visiting bookstores and actually meeting the people who pay good money to read my book!
I'm always struck that they came out to see me and they offer advice.
At one book signing, an elderly gentleman suggested I eat plenty of garlic. "That'll knock the MS right out of you," he promised.
At another in Long Island with my good friend Sean Hannity (search), who's been so generous with his time and support, a young mother left me a box of Yodels.
Actually quite a few have done that.
There was the doctor Tuesday night who left me a case of supplements to cure what ails me.
The priest who just wanted to shake my hand and thank me for saying something nice about priests.
The retired CEO who commended me for showing not all CEOs are crooks.
And on and on.
Some hand me pieces of paper with poems. Others little prayer books. Still others, recipes my wife has "gotta, gotta" have.
They are small acts of kindness and huge acts of class. And it got me thinking: The uplifting stories aren't just the ones I'm writing about in my book. They're the very people reading my book.
You know, it's nice to be a New York Times best-seller. It's nicer still to meet the kind and decent people who made that possible.
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