Horns beget more horns, and, where once they were rarely used, they are now a near-constant Main Street intrusion.

All of a sudden the nest is empty, and it’s just me rattling around and opening the refrigerator door and wondering if I need to cook something for dinner or if I should just have Stoned Wheat Crackers and cheese.

Standing in a fish market, a valued 31-year customer gets a credit card company on the horn, and, oh boy.