If, At The Close Of Business Each

There Are Nineteen Words In Yiddish That Convey Gradations Of Disparagement, From A Mild, Fluttery Helplessness To A State Of Downright, Irreconcilable Brutishness. All Of Them Can Be Usefully Employed To Pinpoint The Kind Of Individuals I Write About.

In My More Pompous Moments I Like To Think Of Myself As A Writer Rather Than A Humorist, But I Suppose That's Merely The Vanity Of Advancing Age.

I Found The Pearl Of The Orient Slightly Less Exciting Than A Rainy Sunday Evening In Rochester.

We Old Roosters Must Be Cautious. Don't Try To Outwit Your Arteries.

You'll Have To Leave My Meals On A Tray Outside The Door Because I'll Be Working Pretty Late On The Secret Of Making Myself Invisible, Which May Take Me Almost Until Eleven O'clock.