An acquaintance of ours once spent an airline flight seated next to a journalist whose columns he found inaccurate and displeasing. When the stewardess arrived to place their meals on their tray tables, our acquaintance looked over at the columnist and said, "Hey, Herb, now you can finally eat what you write!"
The analogy may be slightly inapt, but we couldn't help remembering that story when we read the following letter in this weekend's Times Book Review:
To the Editor: I was entertained by Henry Alford's essay, "Chamber Plots" (July 23). For over 45 years now, my personal loo lit has been The New York Times Book Review.
To be fair, it isn't as if the Times hasn't already acknowledged this.