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Caught by Uncle Bill

Have you ever felt like you were caught with your hand in a cookie jar or in my case a laptop?

I woke this morning, like I do almost every summer Sunday, looking forward to watching a NASCAR race. I ate my oatmeal and sat down to the finishing minutes of about seven hours of prerace coverage. After taking the last bite of my steel cut oats I realized I still had some time to kill.

I opened the laptop and logged into my Google Analytics account. If you are not aware of Google Analytics, it’s a free service Google provides websites to track various things. Things like how many people have been to your website on any given day. What website sent the visitor to you or whether they typed your websites address into the URL bar all on their own. All these things are general and not specific. In other words I can’t tell how you got to my website, I just know someone came through Google, Bing or some other site.

One of the things I like to look at is where my visitors live. For no other reason but I find it fascinating. So this morning I was perusing the location of my visitors when I saw something I have never seen before.


It made me get nervous. Now there are a couple of Lewistons in America so I didn’t completely panic. I checked to see if it was maybe Lewiston, Maine. It wasn’t. It was most definitely Lewiston, Idaho.

Now I have nothing against Lewiston. I have never been there but I here it’s quite nice and one of my favorite people live there. My Uncle Bill.

This is what made me nervous.

Lewiston is a city of a little over 30, 000 people located on the Idaho – Washington border. It is also on the banks of the Snake River. Like I said, more than 30,000 people live there but one only makes me nervous.

Uncle Bill.

Now the person who came to my site might have been any of the 30,000 but it also might have been my uncle.

Uncle Bill is my late mother’s brother. Her younger brother by seven years – I believe. He is not an intimidating man – physically. That would be his brother Bob. He is not a mean uncle. I have none of those. He is perhaps the funniest man I have ever met.

So why would he make me nervous?

Because coming to my site means he may have read some of the drivel I write. Now not all that I write is drivel, as you who read me know. I have my moments. I post some pretty good recipes. I write some fairly hilarious stories.

But once awhile I pontificate on the merits of bathroom repair or some other enlightening subject. These are the things I’d rather Uncle Bill didn’t read.


Because Uncle Bill is Bill Hall the retired editor of the Lewiston Morning Tribune and author of several books. Not only that but he also taught journalism at Washington State University.

Intimidating physically? No.

As a reader? Yes.

I half expected to see red marks and corrections, on my posts, when I looked at my site. I didn’t and that worried me more. I wondered if liked what he saw. I wondered if he waded through the bathroom nonsense to find a a couple of my prouder gems of writing. Probably not, it would take a lot of wading.

Then I realized, the chances it was him is 30,000 to 1.

Probably more, because why would a man who was once described upon his retirement, “Bill Hall is to editorial writing what Michael Jordan┬áis to basketball” , wander into my website of home spun banalities and barbecue recipes?

It was probably one of the other 30,000 fine people who populate Lewiston.

And if it was, and you visit again, tell Uncle Bill, Pat says Hi but don’t tell him about this blog.

It’s silly enough without red marks all over it.


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