Hello, all--Susan, you made me cry--Our dear old friend--he could be such a softie, sometimes. Once, when I was 15 years old and was having boyfriend trouble (Jonathan had introduced me to the guy!), I was sitting in my Ma's living room crying (so glad I'm not 15, anymore, not that tears over men are the exclusive province of teenagers!), when Jonathan came into the room from the door behind me. He didn't say a word, just put his hand on my head and gave me a few strokes, then left. I never forgot it. For a man who thrived on words, he wasn't bad with the non-verbal, as well.