In the mid-1950s I was attending a small private school in NYC. A good friend sat at the desk next to mine. She came in from NJ every morning, buying a Herald Tribune on the way. She liked the crossword puzzle, doodled horses in the margins--but the most important part of the paper was the Art Buchwald column. We would read it together. Sometimes there would be something so good, she would rush into the room a few minutes before class started, the paper folded open to the column, and stand in front of me holding it up and placing her finger at the end of the line she wanted me to notice first,her eyes glistening. I would read, we'd look at each other and laugh out loud, she'd sit and we'd huddle and read the whole column and laugh again. At which point the teacher would indicate that class was starting and extraneous materials should be put away. Now. The good old days, to coin a phrase. Sigh. Thank God Art is A)still Art and B)still with us.    Tw