A tough lesson in life that one has to learn is that not everybody wishes you well.

I still love following and thinking about politics. I enjoy recommending important journalism I read or see from other sources.

I respect and empathize with reporters and editors who must compete in today's environment. And I know full well that when I've been covering campaigns, which I still do, I've made my mistakes and have been far from perfect.

This much we know: Journalism is not a precise science. It's, on its best day, is a crude art. We make mistakes I make mistakes. With more than 50 years as a journalist, I have at least had the opportunity to blow more stories, make more mistakes than maybe anybody in television.

Now, I know you expected me to say that, well, I just kick back in the rocking chair, fished a little bit, listened to Willie Nelson tapes and watched old baseball games on the Classic Sports network. And, tell you the truth, I have done that for maybe about five total minutes.

The dream begins with a teacher who believes in you, who tugs and pushes and leads you to the next plateau, sometimes poking you with a sharp stick called 'truth'.

The dream begins with a teacher who believes in you, who tugs and pushes and leads you to the next plateau, sometimes poking you with a sharp stick called 'truth'.

I had just turned 10-years-old when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor and plunged America into World War II.

Don't taunt the alligator until after you've crossed the creek.