What a mes I'm in! Too late, I found out there are three lines of work a man should not choose, if he loves to bask in a sense of accomplishment and knowing he has done well in his working years. The three occupations are: preacher, probation officer and writer. A man can preach 'til his throate is sore and he becomes short of breathe and find there are more sinners around than when he started at a tender young age. A man such as myself can for forty years in the criminal justice field as a probation/parole officer and as a constant watcher of news programs will find there are more criminal acts being committed today than when he was a stary=eyed do gooder. But the most disappointing of all is the third: writer. Anxious to get my stories out to anxious readers who would surely enjoy and benefit from reading about my experiences, I discovered that people don't read anymore. What a jolt. Maybe I shold have remained a farmer. People have to eat.