Monday, April 4, 2016


   For the first time in years -- mainly to put off emptying the dishwasher -- I went ego-surfing.  Just to see what would happen, I googled the name Edith Handleman, which I haven't used since 1948.   The third link down trumpted my full birth date in bright purple, so of course I had to click it, and --good grief -- there sure isn't any privacy left in this world any more.
    It's delightful to find myself described as "educator, journalist" -- sounds downright professional.  I have no idea who these prabook people are, but you may want to try them with your name and see what happens. 
    Going further down the Google list, I find Norm's obituary.   
    I discover that in June of 1943 I won a $5 award at the Penn Yan Academy commencement.  (That $5 had, another web site informs me, today's buying power of $69 -- not to be sneezed at.) 
    And then I find my great-grandfather -- Wolf Handleman.  That's a name I only found out myself a few years ago.  How does this web site know it? -- so  I've got to click another link to see what's going on there.  And before long I learn (which I never knew) that in February, 1916, my father left Montreal by railroad and entered the United States at  St. Albans, Vermont. 
   Now, of course, I have to google each of the kids.  I may never get out there to empty the dishwasher.

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