The first time I ever needed to type out an outline for a school project included what could be considered one of the biggest, “duh,” moments of my life.

My dad was a blue-collar worker.  Having a handicap, he was not able to pursue the academic dreams he had as a young man.  He delivered newspapers for the New York Post.  It was a good, job, and he provided well for our family.  Once, he told me that he and my mother went to a party where there was someone else who did the same work as my father.  My mom overheard the man saying he was a "circulation engineer."  My parents laughed because the guy delivered newspapers for a living.