Plans are nothing. Planning is everything. Dwight Eisenhower said that in a moment of Zen. It must have been Christmastime.

This time - his sister said these were his happiest times, just a few years living on Martha’s Vineyard.

Welcome to my spot on the map/My dot in the water/Martha’s Vineyard/Could have been called/Bartholomew’s Haven

Without any intention, I appear to be collecting a colorful array of bookmarks.

Back in October, 1964 when I was a young spunk at Columbia’s Graduate School of Journalism, we were instructed about the wonders of wire machines.

Earlier this summer Patti LuPone scored big points at the Goodman Theater in Chicago playing cosmetics titan Helena Rubinstein in a brand new musical, War Paint.

Before his words haunted me, his eyes did. Maybe it was because I couldn’t really see them. They were shaded in mystery behind tinted glasses.

In the film Bull Durham, sports groupie Annie Savoy says: “I believe in the Church of Baseball....I prefer metaphysics to theology. You see, there’s no guilt in baseball, and it’s never boring.”

March left us like a lazy lamb but April came in like a loony lion. Its first few days seemed more akin to the start of February.

Two years after our show went off the air, Cheers reared its head. Ever see the pilot? If you didn’t, but saw the pilot of Park Street Under, you didn’t miss much. They were teeth-gnashingly similar.