I was right.

Now you can buy a wide assortment of beepers you can use to retrieve objects that are "hiding." The beepers are getting smaller and flatter.

I used to go berserk when, almost each day, my lovely wife would announce, "Honey, help me find my ______." Her announcement made me go berserk because of a conditioned Pavlovian-type response: It was paired with a sometime 40-minute quest to locate her keys, one of her address books, her computer memory stick, her favorite pen, her purse or her checkbook.

When you saw that thing in my nose . . .

"Medium rare, please." That’s what my mother told the same waitress.

My 88- year-old mother sat there comfortably chewing on her steak. I couldn’t believe it! My steak was so tough. HOW TOUGH WAS IT? OK, it was like soft leather. But my accompanying shrimp, vegetables and potatoes were pretty good.

The next 10 or so minutes presented me with a quandary: 

On the one hand: