Hey, Art--We may have met once or twice, way back in the dinosaur era--Perhaps in my mother's very living room! No doubt Jonathan was there, as well--he seemed to think my mother was his birth mother, and generally referred to her as "The Duchess." He also once wrote a tender ditty about her travails with hot flashes. What a sentimental bugger! On the event of my first wedding, he gave me a toilet plunger and a pair of enormous furry mittens. The marriage did not live up to the promise of these fine offerings, but no doubt the plunger and mitts are still floating around in the debris of my household, almost 30 years later. God; 30 years!! My mother, inimitable institution that she is, is alive and well in Vermont. I spoke with her last night, and we reminisced for a good while about life with Jonathan. I suspect I am the only person alive who can claim to have received letters from Jonathan when I was a teen-ager off at Labor Zionist summer camp! I still have each and every one, too. One of them, he signed "folkily yours."   XXOO, Riki