The Book
I was attending a soiree with my wife, Clare (soiree: a fancy term for a late happy hour amongst the intelligentsia and I was happy because I had a very nice scotch, neat, in my hand). Anyway, I was sitting quietly in a corner watching my wife and others in the room. She was talking animatedly with her mentor and friend, Professor Randy Holcomb. Her hand motions were subdued by the fact she had a martini in one hand but I could tell she was trying to get some point across to the professor. To...