With this instalment, this column opens its 25th year. When a pump attendant at my regular gas station tells me, "I read you every Sunday" and then asks, "How yuh manage to write all a dem tings deh?" and when a university's department of philosophy invites me, untrained in the discipline, to a consultative luncheon to discuss its curriculum, I have more than adequate compensation for the downside of the business of writing...