I am not unfamiliar with Rotarians. My father was a member in Jackson, Mississippi; my son is a member in Highlands, NC; Les belonged in Coral Gables when he was a businessman; and my grandson, Samuel, is spending his 11th grade year on a Rotary International scholarship in Turkey.
The last time I stood before a Rotary Club I was seventeen, there to thank them for sending me to Girls’ State, where I not only learned how government operated, but vowed NEVER to go into politics (If you’ve read the memoir, you would probably advise me not to run for office, since my romance resume resembles Newt’s more than Romney’s).
For two days here in Miami, I spoke at Rotary Clubs. Rotarians do good work; they listen intently as they eat; but they do NOT buy books. I didn’t get a photograph of Les toting the box of unsold copies out.