And That’s the Way It Is

This morning I took a stroll with the ghost of news anchor Walter Cronkite.

We walked arm in arm. Ghosts don’t have a problem with public displays of affection since it’s rare that people can actually see them.

Cronkite said, “You seem nervous.”

I said, “I am. You were such a big deal authority figure for me when I was a kid.”

Cronkite said, “While alive, I pooped, ate food, smelled, swore, and burped just like everyone else.”

I said, “Yes, but not on the air.”

Cronkite said, “In 1967, I proposed a news show to the executives at CBS in which I would deliver the news in my underwear, with uncombed hair, drinking directly from a bottle of red wine, while sitting at my messy kitchen table. The executives were interested and shot a pilot. The show was test marketed. Most people said the show was lousy because it reminded them of their own lives. It never made it to the air. I was depressed for years.”

A bird flew down, landed in Cronkite’s hair, and laid an egg. A tear came to Cronkite’s eye.

Cronkite said, “It’s nice to get any kind of acknowledgment.”

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