I was sitting in the kitchen a moment ago, holding one of those Dole strawberry fruit things in my left hand, and also holding down the middle hump of the NYer, when I suddenly noticed my hand with its sticked bar was next to the hand of Ken Kesey in a photo -- holding a sticked bar. It's the NYer summer fiction issue, which is good, but it's also a crammed-thick-with-advertising-things-that-make-the-hump-bigger issue. MiniCooper had a milk carton that fell out leaving a strip of card to which it had been glued. Some other advertiser had a booklet of helpful hints at living life from a Jesuit. Of course, I read it (I read the milk carton, too). "Never let anyone see something half finished," is true; sadly true. If I had a nickel for every time someone pointed out a missing something-or-other that hadn't YET been addressed, I'd be able to build a barbecue out of nickels. I had a design prof once named Ray Nichols who said he walked around as a child with his pockets full of nickels, as that was his name.