To Our Readers

Nothing Brings Closet-Cleaning to a halt faster than running across a collection of old pictures. That's what happened to me recently after I uncovered an album of photographs taken during my time in army basic training. There, tucked into the corner of one of the pages, was a picture of a guy in army fatigues, sprawled out on the ground, his hat too big for his head, his rifle propped up, as he tries to look serious during target practice. Oh, please.

Yes, it was a photo of me; it's one I would like to see disappear. And thanks to that marvelous invention called the wastebasket, the problem was easily solved.

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Letters
YOUR LETTERS
February 23, 1998
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