Happy St. Patrick’s Day!  Although all four of my grandparents were Russian/German immigrants from Odessa, near the Black Sea in the Ukraine, today I’m Irish.  I’m wearing a green shirt, green shoes and green jewelry and tonight Wayne and I will be dining on corned beef and cabbage. 

Talk about the luck of the Irish! (No, I’m not Irish, but don’t most people don the green and celebrate this special day?).  I had an encounter with a famous writer this past weekend.  I had just completed a fun book signing event at Great Balls of Yarn in West Palm Beach.  My friend,  Marsha Roche, was with me,  and we decided to have lunch at City Place, a high-end mall close by.  As we headed down the escalator toward the parking garage,  I noticed a man riding up on the opposite side.  I recognized him immediately and said, “Hello, James Patterson!”  He raised his hand and returned my greeting, even though he didn’t know me.  We were two ships passing in the night , or, in this case, two bodies standing on movable stairs.  I did get a thrill out of seeing him!