Iappreciated the formality. “Greg Dixon Esq,” it said on the envelope, “The Good Life Columnist.”
I appreciated the “The”, too, though Michele – or as I now like to call her, “A Good Life Columnist” – was definitely affronted by the definite article. “I’m outraged,” she fumed as she buttered her breakfast toast. “I’m wounded.”
I suppose I was a little wounded, too, when I read the letter. It