I am back, back to a mountain of 37 newspapers that my neighbours piled on my dining room table, about 800 emails, and your thoughtful condolences on the unexpected death of my brother-in-law Martin Bergman on April 19.
His life was celebrated by more than 1,000 in Montreal. We sat shivah for the better part of a week -- and, thanks to the ministrations of my sister's many friends, all of us gained 500 pounds on the food they sent in. Martin would have loved the ''picnics'' the family had in the kitchen with the babies flinging French fries around.
Many, many thanks for all your kind words, both on the blog and privately. Sometime last week, I noticed a print-out of this, with the comments, sitting on a coffee table at my sister's.
And now, back into the breech. Posting and pugnacity will resume just as soon as I get organized.
P.S. Marco Ursi's Ryerson Review of Journalism profile of me is here. And yeah, my family was pissed I used the F-word.