I was rear-ended on 690 last night while driving home. A small bump, really. A young lady in a little car just didn't stop short enough. It wasn't a big deal. No damage to speak of. Nothing to write home about. And yet, here I am. Writing home.

Funny how the Internet has become home to so many millions of people. People who blog away their days talking about the mundane things that happen in their lives. We're pouring our hearts out into this great void, not knowing if anyone's listening. And then we find that indeed they are, and we're creating a whole virtual community of people sharing the intricacies of their lives with one another. People they'll never meet in person. We're crying alongside people we'll never hug...

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I first met Leo Pinckney when I was a cub reporter at the Auburn Citizen. I was just 22 years old, fresh out of college and petrified.

Well, Leo took an interest in me. He encouraged me in his soft-spoken grandfatherly way. He told me stories about the old days, when reporters smoked cigars at their desks and a very cheap newspaper editor gave out cheap ties for Christmas. At that point, I didn't know much about him. Just that on late nights we'd both be clack-clacking away at our keyboards. He was knocking on the door of 80 then.

But within a year I learned much more about the legend Leo Pinckney was. For those of you who don't know Leo, legend has it that a vacationing Auburnian once ran into Tom Selleck...

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