James Wolcott welcomes my arrival in the Corner by suggesting that I “went bald in his parents’ basement pretending to be a Jedi warrior with the maid’s broom.” First of all, my parents didn’t have a basement. Second of all, I was 16 years old when Star Wars premiered, and for reasons that only she can explain, my mother at the time refused to hire any domestic help and was therefore trapped in the laundry room of our apartment building on the night of the Manhattan blackout only weeks after the movie opened. And finally, James, I am more than willing to acknowledge I am challenged in the follicle department. So the question is: When are you getting your stomach stapled?