Had I been more responsible I might have made something of myself as a junk bond trader, long-haul trucker or perhaps a plumbing contractor.

Regardless, I did rise to the editorship before embarking on a freelance career in the late ’60’s.

I have four grown children and two tiny grandchildren.

If one is looking for cultural testosterone and raging off-the-wall competition in the world of communications, Manhattan was – and is – home plate.

I admit to wasting my life messing around with fast cars and motorcycles.

Don’t get me wrong, I think bikes are terrific. I own several of my own, including a trendy mountain style, and ride them for pleasure and light exercise.

The bicycle is a former child’s toy that has now been elevated to icon status because, presumably, it can move the human form from pillar to post without damage to the environment.

More books, more racing and more foolishness with cars and motorcycles are in the works.

The automobile, both a cause and an effect of this decentralization, is ideally suited for our vast landscape and our generally confused and contrary commuting patterns.