the service of my habit. Munch, slurp, slobber, drool...”

the service of my habit. Munch, slurp, slobber, drool...” In 1987, | was a keynote speaker at the annual International Society for Humor Studies conference, held in Tempe, Arizona. | had dinner with a group of five staffers from the Russian humor magazine Krokodii/ at the Holiday Inn. They all ordered the specialty of the house—pork ribs—which came with huge bibs. The editor was given a bib with the words “Miss America” on it. The art director got a bib with a big iconic “S" for Superman. They were really getting a dose of our culture. As we walked along the salad bar, one of the Russians stopped at the corn chowder and asked me, “Is this typical American soup?” As the others gathered around, | didn’ t quite know how to answer. “I’ m sorry, | don’ t know," | said. “I’m sure it’ s typical somewherein the country.” And then | remembered that multi-tasking man at the airport urinal. “In America,” | told the Russian, “corn chowder comes with dental floss that has little pieces of corn embedded in it, so if you get hungry between meals you can floss and have a snack at the same time.” A few years before | met my wife, Nancy, she had gone to a dentist HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_015454