Duped into sharing a hotel room on the 18th floor with the editor in chief, I have to pretend not only that I've read the article on Lincoln and Obama, but that I understood it, and beyond this, that I LIKED what I understood. Exhausted, I take a van ride with friends to an oceanfront fountain. Later I call for our annual air-conditioning and heating duct cleaning, but I've been put through to a Greek restaurant, whose waitress says she'll send one of the busboys anyway to see what he can do. Dina just barely waits for me to finish before heading out the door: after all, I'm twenty minutes late again.