Transparency as good as confession
M y cover has been outed. A friend said he Googled me and discovered that I was older than dirt. Since it may not be dirt from the Garden of Eden, the cat is out of the bag and the truth must be told. I was born prematurely and have been on a dead run since. It was during the Great Depression when I became the eighth in the family of 11 – and we weren’t even Catholic. For my mom, the depression got to be greater so she wanted to name me “Depressing” but my Dad found a Lloyd in English history so that became my name. It came in handy because my advertising agency could be named ...