Howard

Howard was a student of mine in a college chemistry class. A few years later I met him by chance at supermarket. "Howard," I asked, "have your grown? You seem taller than when you were in my class."

"No," he replied, "I've been this height ever since you knew me." He added, "I think instructors look down on students." It is a pun worth remembering.

It turned out he was in computers. A comparison of our earnings motivated me to look into switching careers. Howard moved on from computers, but that's what I've been doing for about 30 years.

Later, he became my broker. His only problem was that he didn't treat me like my mother. Howard used broker speech whereas my mother would say, "Sell it you damn fool."

It may not seem funny now, but when we couldn't get into a van Gogh exhibit, Howard suggested that we threaten to cut off our ears unless they let us in. We laughed ourselves silly. We laughed even harder as we walked up Fifth Avenue as mothers yanked their children out of the path of the two giddy lunatics.

I miss him.