Has anyone been by the Custom House on the Fore Street side? Did you hear anything odd? I did. It sounded like the attack of the Flying Monkeys or jungle noises in a Tarzan movie. It was more like the screeching and chattering of birds, very big birds. I think it’s a recording, a loud one, intended to make real birds reconsider plans to deposit guano or, worse yet, build nests on the building and (oh, God, dare I say it?) rear their young. Does bird poop dissolve granite? Is it a remake of Hitchcock's classic? If you know what’s up, drop me a line. Facetious replies are welcome.

Has anyone noticed how “gaming” has crept into the language and supplanted “gambling” as the word for throwing money down the rat hole? I hear it all the time now. I am glad that ignoring terrible odds and losing money now sounds more dignified. Countless thousands of people, once called “suckers”, are spared great embarrassment. No longer can they be accused of gambling away the egg money. Now they game it away.

Whom should we thank for the great leap forward? Why, none other than the Gaming Industry itself. This fig leaf first appeared as it thrust its tentacles into new territory and new pockets.

I shouldn’t be so critical. The gambling industry itself stood in need of greater dignity. It’s embarrassing to take a person’s money, give him absolutely nothing in return and drop tiny crumbs of cash to lure him on. So, you see, if the racketeer and the racketee both seek solace in euphemism, then everybody wins.