For the past eight or nlne years (I have no idea under what circumstances I began) I have accumulated around me an enormous, flowing collection of published Straws In The Wind. Almost from the beginning I fell into the habit of calling this ramshackle and growing mountain of crumpled, torn, dog-eared bits of paper my Vast File of Dynamic Trivia. Somewhere behind it all I had a vague idea that one day, when I pass on to my just reward, I would leave this enormous heterogeneous mess to say, the Smithsonian Institute, or maybe the Rotary Clubs of America, to be preserved for future generations so that one day they will know How It Really Was. . .