From the Where-Do-You-Get-Your-Ideas Department: When I was a young man, I worked as a cartoonist and artist for a small metropolitan daily newspaper. In accordance with my standing on the staff, I was relegated to a back corner of the newsroom. My “desk” was an old-fashioned drawing board that was an antique then. It perched upon a single cast-iron column that must’ve weighed 100 pounds. I wish I had that drawing board today. My position was immediately outside the door of a glass cubicle that was the office of the managing editor. One day, the managing editor summoned a young reporter. The summoned was a friend of mine, an excellent journalist and one of the nicest fellows you could ever hope to meet. He also was a dedicated runner. He would go for long runs in the morning and come directly to work. I could not help overhearing the managing editor as he delicately asked my friend to literally clean up his act. It was a very uncomfortable conversation to pretend not to hear.