Edith Lindeman

About 10 years ago, when my waist was 10 inches smaller and all my parts were alive and well, I wrote a column about the contributions that the so-called "little people" make to the success of their printing company employers. In 1988, my wit was still quick and I opened the column by rewriting the lyrics of the great old standard, "Little Things Mean a Lot." My version began like this: "Blow me a kiss from across the room. Say I look nice when I'm not. Give me smile if I've waited a while. Little things mean a lot…" My revisions butchered the great lyrics of the composers, Edith Lindeman

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