Every kid has a schtick, I suppose, some routine guaranteed to amaze their friends and annoy their enemies. Some told dead baby jokes. Others, like my kid brother, could fart the first four bars of the Star Spangled Banner. My specialty was Helen Keller, probably because I had no patience for Patty Duke. 'They laugh alike, they walk alike, At times they even talk alike — You can lose your mind..."

When Helen Keller died, a chorus of my classmates insisted I share my repertoire of mimeographed and memorized hilarity. My teacher was horrified.

Did I even know, she barked, Helen Keller lived nearby, and I passed her home all the time? No, instead my greatest regret was I never knew to knock on her door and try out my best material, see if she laughed, and maybe rearrange the furniture. But I had sense enough not to say so.

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