I have trained myself to be suspicious about hyperbole. Everywhere we turn, there is a seemingly authoritative person claiming that something or someone is/was the most this, the best that, and so on. A blip was raised on my anti-blather radar...
During a hot summer day in 1975 in Nacogdoches, Texas, I was talking with a neighbor named Jim. He was a woebegone individual who drank too much. His story was a strange mixture of complaint and braggadocio. I listened until I could stand no...
One night in the summer of 1993, I flew—not literally—from Cairo, Egypt to Manama, Bahrain. It was the worst flight of my life. There was no danger per se, but it was very uncomfortable in that cramped airplane with air so...
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