WHAT AN ACUTE PLEASURE IT IS, to be reunited with one's things. To see one's children sitting straight in their chairs, hair combed, and hands folded in their laps. What a pleasure it is, to nod to one's neighbors, find a spot near the aisle, and adjust oneself in the seat; to enjoy the dimming of lights, ushers disappearing, programs rustling, an old gentleman coughing, and the breathless heavenly feeling that yes, yes, it is all about to begin....