Today, on the homepage, I begin a journal called “Up in Norway.” It will chronicle a stint in Oslo. I happen to mention Garbo, a Swede, to be sure, not a Norwegian – but whose face I saw imprinted on a Norwegian plane. And I happen to mention that our colleague David Pryce-Jones knew Garbo. And further that he once played tennis with her — while she was topless.

Believe it or not, that is not P-J’s best story. Far, far from it. It’s pretty good though. You can live a long time without playing tennis with a topless Garbo (if you follow my meaning).

Anyway, a reader writes, “Let me make sure I understand this: One of your senior editors played tennis with a world-historic beauty while she was topless. Are there any job openings at National Review?”

Um, it is not what you’d call a standard benefit.