Stephen Rosenzweig's Comments

Hi Steve, I have many names, it depends on which series of books people are reading and all these different names have been "given". Originally, I was named Robert McGinnis, then someone noticed that my dad and I had the same first name so someone gave me the name Snooks, which lasted for seven years by most, but for my lifetime by my old aunts and uncles of which about four are still living. Then in high school, I was called Lover Boy and I can't vouch for that one. In 1979 my second book was published, "In Search of Paradise" and a year or so later, I finished my PhD and people began calling me Dr Paradise. I have had a glorious, fantastic, occasionally, close to death and exhilarating life. I am married to the girl of my dreams, she was not born in this country and wasn't even born when I was first married to another, but my dreams came true and we both felt it from the very first. We have been together for twenty-five very happy years and the first thing she says each morning is, "I love you" and the last words she speaks before falling to sleep at night. As a child, someone in her old country predicted she would have to leave her country (under a hail of bullets) and marry a foreigner who lived in a large brick, two story and wrote books for a living. Much of my life has been filled with this sort of fantasy experience and I can offer no complaint for this exceptionally gratifying experience. I have produced four, very, very outstanding children, two professors and two more that are intelligent enough to get good jobs. A grandson who is a professor and roams the world over in a wheel chair. I assume all of my grandchildren will follow when they get old enough, but I have not stopped getting grandchildren, after my first grandchild was born thirty-five or six years ago. Did I say I love to write and I have been told that I never know where to stop. I better cut this short. Dr Paradise.

PS I lived in Florida for almost half a century and after my third motorcycle wreck, none of which were my own fault, I decided to go somewhere that people with cars don't pass you in the same lane. By the way, you haven't lived until you turn over a bike on a cobble stone street and slid sixty or seventy feet over that brutal surface. I don't think I should have used the word, "lived" in that last sentence. You may have guessed by now, that age is a factor in many of my mistakes.