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Postscript To A Perfect Summer Saturday…

We arrived at our film a few minutes late. It was only playing at one theatre downtown.

We took the subway because it’s the most cost-efficient way to travel in Toronto on weekends, but there were some slow spots on the line. It was a bit of a rush.

Nonetheless, the film, despite the reviews, is terrific, spectacular…

For someone, like me, who’s worked at newspapers from 1970 to 2007 ~ and I now write online features for another one ~ the daily miracle of getting a newspaper to print, press and the public every 24 hours is just that, a miracle.

There’s no way else to describe it when you consider all the things that could go wrong, and don’t. It’s a carefully choreographed dance and each member of the company is dependent on the others.

Newspapers are daily miracles…

There’s no more definitive picture of teamwork in action than a beautifully oiled, humane newspaper, like The New York Times.

I’ve subscribed to the Sunday edition in print for as long as I can remember.

Watching this documentary for me, was so real, so honest.

I relived my daily print newspaper life

I’ve forgotten how challenging the print news business is. It’s so hard. I still miss the daily newspaper game. I always will.

Yet, I’ve been through too many layoffs to count and too much pain as technology has changed the way news is reported, yet I’m still here. I cannot believe it.

That’s a miracle, I think, in itself, given my emotional health and physical health issues…

But that aside, following the film, standing in the darkened theatre, we ran into Lorrie Goldstein and his wife Krys ~ two of our closest longtime friends.

Lorrie and I met in 1978, when he was a cub reporter at The Toronto Sun and I was a one-year “veteran” staff feature writer in its Lifestyle section. He’s now The Toronto Suns senior associate editor, responsible for editorials and columns, and one of the wisest human beings I’ve ever known.

We became fast friends and 10 years later, at my 50th birthday party, I met his wondrous wife, Krys. This was nine years before I met my husband Marty, but when the four of us met for the first time, it was magical. We’ve all became intimate friends. Every New Year’s Eve, we spend with the Goldsteins. It’s a tradition.

A perfect coincidence…

I spoke to Krys on Friday, as it happens. Then, quite serendipitously, we ran into each yesterday. How coincidental is that? We haven’t seen each other in several months.

Off we all went for a drink and a chat in an outdoor cafe. Then we parted ways. The Goldsteins took the subway home, and we strolled along Bloor Street gazing at the windows of all the tony shops, until we reached our subway line.

At home, we took care of the dogs and made a delicious dinner of salmon, grilled broccoli and cauliflower and fresh fruit for dessert.

So, here I am. About to take the dogs for a walk…

I started my day the same way. A perfect circle.

Lorrie and Krys were unable to attend Marty’s surprise birthday party a few weeks ago ~ a wedding took understandable precedence, so this was a delightful chance to catch up.

The end of my perfect summer Saturday.

Hugs until next time and wishing you a perfect day, too! Your own perfect day.


Postscript To A Perfect Summer Saturday…

Sandy Naiman

Sandy Naiman is a Toronto freelance journalist.

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APA Reference
Naiman, S. (2011). Postscript To A Perfect Summer Saturday…. Psych Central. Retrieved on July 4, 2020, from


Last updated: 10 Jul 2011
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