Dear Graydon:

I had the damnedest time trying to begin this column until I decided to just start it as if I were writing a letter to you, like Tom Wolfe did when he slapped “Dear Byron” on the top of his Kandy-Kolored dragster piece. Byron Dobell! Lord, if THAT’S not me showing my age … Would you believe that we girls still wore gloves to the office in those days? We all had daddy crushes on Byron back then … so avuncular-sexy in that Garrick Utley kind of way. (Christ, showing my age AGAIN!) Honestly, I don’t regret breaking up By’s second marriage.