Hello World

In the summer of the last year that the date read the same upside down as right side up, my English teacher told me that I could be a writer.  I had other plans.  I wanted to be a mathematician.  Perhaps a practical one.  An accountant or an actuary.  But, not enough gray cells and white fibers to make the grade, so I wound up as a physician, scribbling indecipherable notes and hackneyed prescriptions.  If a writer writes in the forest and no one reads it, is it really writing?  I guess I will find out.