When Rita and I broke up, my world was more shaken than a James Bond martini. I threw myself into reading all sorts of religious/spiritual books, searching for answers. My house is scattered with tomes such as When Bad Things Happen to Good People, The Road Less Traveled, Conversations with God, Chicken Soup for the Soul, etc. At one point, noting all these titles, my kindly housekeeper Anna asked me, “You okay, Mr. Ed?” I’ve always suspected that Anna knows more English than she likes to admit and fully realizes she’s calling me the name of a talking horse. Anyway, she asked, “You okay, Mr. Ed?” and I said, “Yes, thank you, Anna; please dust off my copy of Suicide for Dummies and draw me a warm bath, won’t you?”

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