I sometimes feel like I was born in the wrong era.

I’ve seen every Marx Brothers movie countless times. Same with Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn, together and apart. I became obsessed with Frank Sinatra at a very young age. I have strong opinions about who should wear fedoras and when.

Another way this condition manifests itself is my fascination with the Algonquin Round Table.

Infatuated with its history, I’d stayed at the Algonquin Hotel before. Then, 21 years ago this week, I used some vacation days to write there.

Things did not go as planned.

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