In Six Pages, I Can't Even Say

A Group Of Two Dozen Nurses Completely Surrounded By 100,000 Unattached American Men.

Although Most Of Us Know Vincent Van Gogh In Arles And Paul Gauguin In Tahiti As If They Were Neighbors -- Somewhat Disreputable But Endlessly Fascinating -- None Of Us Can Name Two French Generals Or Department Store Owners Of That Period. I Take Enormous Pride In Considering Myself An Artist, One Of The Necessaries.

I Had Learned Volleyball In The Navy, Where All The Captains And Admirals Wanted To Be Spikers, And I Found Then That A Man Who Can Subdue His Own Desires And Master The Art Of Serving Others Can Make Himself Invaluable. In Choosing Sides The Team Captain Always Chose The Good Spikers On The First And Second Choice, But Then The Spikers Would Grab His Arm And Whisper, 'take Michener.' I Was Never Chosen Lower Than Third, Because I Was Needed. I Wasn't Good, But I Was Faithful.

It Was The Silent Time Before Dawn, Along The Shores Of What Had Been One Of The Most Beautiful Lakes In Southern Africa.

. . . Luddites Were Those Frenzied Traditionalists Of The Early 19th Century Who Toured [england] Wrecking New Weaving Machines On The Theory That If They Were Destroyed . . . Old Jobs And Old Ways Of Life Could Be Preserved . . . At Certain Times In His Life Each Man Is Tempted To Become A Luddite, For There Is Always Something He Would Like To Go Back To. But To Be Against All Change-against Change In The Abstract-is Folly.