So tonight on my way back from Boston, I stopped and saw my dad at work. They recently bought a new press to print the New York Daily News and the Metro (Boston). They now print 3 daily newspapers, all at 11:30pm each night. Apprently, it is a rarity.

His work is pretty cool. He is the Director of Operations at a newspaper. Huge rolls of paper - the size of a VW bug. Robots that grab paper and feed the press when it runs out. He recently bought another press to compliment the 5-story high press they currently own. It has been having problems.

He has been working 18-20 hours a day. He has been sleeping in his office. He recently rear-ended someone and his boss offered to pay for it. He was driving between his two offices in the middle of the night and hadn't been sleeping at all. He has decided to take full responsibilty for all these problems and has been really worried they won't be fixed soon. Apparently, at the very end of printing the paper, it is folded twice... and that's where the biggest problem is. Anyway, he joked around about committing suicide soon, which was not funny. He was also wearing this funky sweater, which worried me even more. But, in the end, he was glad I stopped by. Even with all the turmoil i have caused him these past few months, and with the incredible burden of making his $4 million dollar press work, he was in a great mood.