I bathe my 18 months at UPI in 1975-76 in the rosy glow of nostalgia. Most of my best journalism stories come from that tiny part of my 25-year career. I remember the joy of my personal life at the time. The excitement of the news. This week I recalled that I did not rise every morning (usually at 5:30) in a fit of joy and gratitude. Lots of double shifts. Lots of “Lobster Tricks” (12am-8am). It was just a job. At the time, I did not know how lucky I was. “You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.”

I was advised to never look ahead as my daughters were growing up; just be sure to savor each stage. I did. I wish I’d been advised to savor my youthful journalism opportunities more thoroughly.