Wednesday evening I boarded the plane to Europe, happy to be headed home, thrilled to be doing so in the comfort of the emergency exit row with infinite legroom.
Alas, I was not alone; seated next to me were an older couple. He was GI who’d met and married the German girl of his dreams back during the Cold War. They were from a rural Texas community and were headed to Berlin for two weeks.
Both of us had connected in Houston, and I noted that I’d looked at the Houston Chronicle and found the newspaper to be bad.
Before I could explain why, they happily agreed with me:
It’s filled with news about Hispanics.