Nowadays, “newspapers” are read on iPads. Around sixty years ago, for about four years, I delivered actual newspapers door to door.

My territory was on the western edge of Roseville. Basically east of Highway 280, south of Highway 36, west of Cleveland and north of Midland Hills Golf course. Looking back, I think the lessons learned were probably worth a lot more than the money earned.

The Sheldon’s had a big Saint Bernard. Every time I delivered the paper he would jump up on his hind legs, his front paws against the window and rattle the window with his big deep bark. He was friendly, fun and not at all scary.

One hot summer day the window was open. When I walked up to put the paper in the door, he was across the room and I had startled him. He came running hard, tail wagging, barking, right through the screen on the window, knocked me down and started to lick my face. Mrs Sheldon was mortified assuming I was being mauled. He just wanted to say hi.

Miss Holste, was younger than I am now but back then I thought of her as elderly. On my first day delivering to her she let me know precisely how she wanted her paper delivered. Do not cross over the grass, walk up the long driveway, go into the porch, put the paper on the bench so she does not have to bend over and pick it up. Please don’t walk on the lawn after delivering the paper. I did as she asked. She paid on time, we never really interacted much.

When I got into high school, I learned Miss Holste worked in the school library. Periodically we would nod in recognition, but I do not think we ever actually talked.

About a month before I was to graduate I got a note saying if I don’t return a book, I will not be allowed to graduate. I did not have the book, and I did not know what to do so I did what kids like me do, nothing.

About a week before graduation, I got called out of a class and told to see Miss Holste in the library. She asked if I had the book. I said no. She looked me square in the eyes then tore up the piece of paper she was holding and said don’t worry about it, you were a good paperboy.

Every two weeks, I would go to each of my customers and collect. There were always a couple customers who were on vacation or who would ask if I would come at the end of the week after they got paid.

Along my route lived some wealthy people who were always the worst to collect from. In hindsight, they were probably just very busy people. When I finally connected with them, a couple of them would complain bitterly and threaten not to pay saying they did not get a paper or that the paper was not delivered properly. They would eventually pay but often several weeks late.

Let me just say this. If you habitually try to screw with a young boy by not paying in a timely manner and complaining about it when you do pay, come Halloween, you should not be surprised that your house was randomly egged and your pumpkins smashed.

On one occasion, I delivered the paper the morning after Halloween, the police were there getting hollered at for not properly protecting the good citizens of Roseville. I just delivered the paper and went to the next house.

The newspapers were delivered to the northeast corner of the intersection of Highway 280 and County Road B. From my house the quickest way there was to walk over a large hill, which was the fairway of the second hole of Midland Hills golf course. Looking northwest across the intersection up another hill, is Sunset Memorial Cemetery.

It is Sunday Easter Morning. The Sunday Papers came in two bundles. One was news and the other was everything else. I’m up before dawn, at the intersection putting the “everything else section” into the “news section” and then putting it into my paper delivery bag. There were no cars around, no people around, it was quiet and sort of peaceful.

At exactly dawn, as clear as a bell, several trumpets sounded followed by a very large and loud choir singing the “Hallelujah Chorus,” from George Frideric Handel’s Messiah. It was like a sound from heaven. Stunning. Moving. I assume there was a religious service at the cemetery three blocks away. From where I stood it sounded like they were right in front of me. It still gives me the chills just thinking about it.

Being a paperboy was not easy. You deliver every day. In Minnesota, it gets hot, cold, rainy, snowy, windy, humid and like a postman, it doesn’t matter, you were expected to deliver the paper every day, on time. On the plus side, unlike most of my friends that age, I had spending money. I bought a really cool, purple, Schwinn Varsity ten speed bike with my own money.

Delivering papers day after day, month after month you come to see and understand a certain reality about the people. On a very cold, blustery winter day, some people will insist you come in to warm up before continuing your route, some will complain you are late but most people do neither.

On any given day, over the length of your route you might well hear people shouting in anger at each other and other people being joyous and happy. Mostly though day in and day out people are friendly but are just going about their day doing the best they can to do the best they can.

As a paperboy, I was a kid who had interacted with doctors, lawyers, mechanics, teachers, librarians, nurses, dentists, professors, a bank president, an accountant, several small business owners and like fifty other adults who lived around where I grew up.

The closer you look the more you see.

The list of stupid things I’ve done and the resulting lessons learned is long and varied. The point being, not stupid, just learning my lessons.

We were married but pre kids. We bought a Dodge Aspen station wagon on a cold day in the middle of winter. Do you want air conditioning? Nope, never had AC before, don’t need it now. Six months later, mid-July, road trip to the Black Hills then down the Rocky Mountains to Colorado Springs and then home. Ninety-five degrees. AC sure would have been nice.

Per Merrriam / Websters dictionary, stupid means: ”having or showing a lack of ability to learn and understand things”. Technically, saying no to air conditioning saved a couple bucks on the monthly payment but ended up as a lesson learned from a mistake made. All of our cars since then have had air conditioning.

We all sometimes say or do things which could be called stupid. None of us are perfect. If we learn from our mistakes, we are of course, not actually stupid. So, next time someone calls you stupid, let them know you were maybe wrong but you will learn from your mistakes. Maybe to emphasize the point, say something mature like; “I know you are but what am I”. That’ll teach um.

Calling someone stupid is a harsh insult. It is one thing to tell someone they are wrong. Tommy you are wrong, two plus two does not equal five. It is a whole other thing to tell a person they are stupid. Tommy you are stupid because two plus two does not equal five. Telling Tommy he is stupid implies Tommy lacks the ability to learn that 2 + 2 = 22. (inside joke only my daughters are likely to understand)

Yes I’m sure I’ve called a person stupid in my life but it is an insult I try to not use. First off it is never literally true. Virtually everyone has the ability to learn and understand. Yes, some learn faster than others. Yes, some lessons require a background which some of us do not have. Trying to teach me to knit is hopeless.

When the stupid jerk flew past me on the freeway, my car windows were closed and he was several blocks away by the time I called him a stupid jerk. The risk of him knowing I insulted him was almost nil. I’m not sure it is actually insulting someone when they cannot possibly hear the insult. That said, whether or not he heard me, objectively I did no good by calling him stupid.

I looked it up. Here is the real problem with driving recklessly. “Reckless driving carries with it a substantially increased accident risk. Traveling at excessive speeds requires a much faster response time and can lead to significantly greater injuries to you and others, if you do have an accident. Not only that, reckless driving can carry other severe penalties. Tickets and fines.”

We all hope the reckless drivers learn to drive less recklessly. Calling them stupid as they fly past is not an effective strategy to getting him to stop recklessly swerving in and out of traffic. The more intelligent strategy would be to treat the incident as a reminder to ourselves to drive safely. Being upset with the stupid jerk makes you a less safe driver because you were upset instead of focusing on your own driving.

I know what offsides means in hockey and you’d think most hockey referees would also know. Which is why it is so baffling that over the years, referees often miss offsides calls against the other team and call unwarranted offsides on the team I support. For the record I do not think these referees are stupid. More likely they are diabolical geniuses with a personal grudge against me.

Remember the childhood maxim, I’m rubber you’re glue, your words bounce off me and stick to you. Those who insult a person by calling them stupid come dangerously close to proving the maxim true. If Timmy calls Tommy stupid, Timmy is publicly stating something which is, in fact wrong. Which is not a bright thing to do.

When we learn from our experiences, by definition we are not stupid. Most everyone learns from their experiences so like nobody is actually stupid. However, in the real world, it is common for people to insult others by calling them stupid.

Kidding aside, psychologically there are two basic problems with being called stupid. We all live in a social hierarchy. Labeling a person as stupid, in a sense demotes them within the hierarchy or even makes them feel like an outcast from the group. Which is bad. In addition, calling someone stupid can diminish their self-respect.

Feeling good about yourself and feeling supported by others is like a basic human need. Being called stupid hurts both.

For example, Tommy sits in the back of the classroom drawing as he always does. The teacher asks him what Shakespeare meant when he wrote: ‘Now is the winter of our discontent’ and Tommy quietly says Shakespeare must not like winter.

When Timmy turns to Tommy and calls him stupid, it hurts Tommy’s self-esteem and his standing in the class. Tommy decides he should just shut up and keep his head down instead of showing the teacher the drawing he was making of a person looking from a bleak winter scene into a sublime spring scene. Which would have been actually close to genius.

Insulting people is rarely a good strategy and most often backfires. Do unto others as we wish they do unto you. If I am doing something wrong, quietly remind me about what is right, don’t diminish me. I will try to do the same for you.

So here is the game I used to play with my young daughters. I’d ask what is 2 + 2? If they answered 4. I would shake my head and say, nope it is 22. If they answered 22, I would say nope the answer is 4. It was a fun (for me) way to help them understand there are most often, multiple correct answers to most questions. Even basic ones. Which, I think is not stupid.

The closer you look the more you will see.