I'm on the uptown 6 train reading a love letter from a person who writes that he's decided to spend the rest of his life with me, and maybe I'm also holding a balloon and some daisies. Why not? Life is going so well! The train stops at Astor Place, where this man with a suitcase gets on and sits down next to me. As the doors slide tightly shut, he starts rummaging through his suitcase. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a laundry bag from the Comfort Inn, a rubber lobster from the Portland airport gift shop, a notebook titled "Secret Code Instructions." I read over his shoulder: "Now, when you see me on TV and my hat is on a little crooked, hit 14th Street. But if my hat is on straight and I am scratching my nose, go for 59th and Lex because it's got narrow stairs and you will make a mess and maybe even break a water main. And when you don't see me on TV anymore, what can I tell you? Use your judgment. I'll be up there with those 70... More >>>