MLK, this one's for you

I have a dream, too. Actually, I almost never don't have a dream.

For instance, I once dreamed that Henry Winkler was my boss, and he was retiring. In proper CTI tradition, we held a farewell party for him, and we routed a card so everyone could pen their sentiments. In this particular instance, however, we were creative and signed a magazine page he'd worked on, because evidently it was more special this way. I was the last one in my department to sign the card/magazine page, and I was glancing over the notes that my co-workers had written. (I'm pretty sure there were only three signatures at this point, belonging to Marty, Melody, and Wes, my fellow newsletter team editors at the time.) After seeing what they'd written, I was outraged because their notes were so short and perfunctory. What a travesty, I thought, for someone who'd given so many years and so much hard work to his company and television career to be robbed of the deep, meaningful appreciation letter he deserved. I determined to make up for these short notes with my own. It read as follows:

"Dear Mr. Winkler,
For so many years I'd only heard about you or seen you on TV, and I can honestly say it's been an incredible honor to actually work for you. I want you to know that I've admired and appreciated you for your work as the Fonz on Happy Days; in your ensuing career as a director; and as a writer, editor, and manager at CTI. You've also become a great friend and mentor to me. Thanks for all you've contributed, and enjoy your years of retirement!"

Here's to the dreamers. Especially the one who dared to dream that "the jangling discords of our nation (would be transfomed) into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood." Let freedom ring. Yes, in our nation--but also, all the heck over.