Happy Birthday, Babe.

There's a little girl in our neighborhood,
Her name is Charlotte Preston and she's really lookin' good.
I had to go and see her, so I called her on the phone.
I walked over to her house, and this was goin' on:
Her brother was on the sofa eatin' chocolate pie,
Her momma was in the kitchen cuttin' chicken up to fry,
Her daddy was in the backyard rollin' up a garden hose,
I was on the porch with Charlotte feelin' love down to my toes,
And we were swingin', yes we were swingin'.

Little Charlotte she's as pretty as the angels when they sing.
I can't believe I'm out here on the front porch in this swing,
Just a-swingin'.

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Customer: You're a very polite young man.
JRP: I blame my parents.

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From the Arts & Leisure Section of this morning's Times: You'll have to take my word for it, but that's me in the background at the circulation desk of Firestone Library. Forty years I have not understood why the photographer chose to focus on Philip Roth.