Onpass the Itme Wednesday, August 13, 2003

A fixy afternoon. E-mails coming from all quarters to excise or elide glaring errors, introduce more cooks into the pot or, best yet, sneak "color" back in. Color: You never of heard of Spazmo Fatcat, a piano could fall on him and you wouldn't muster a shrug, you're not even sure why you're reading a story about him--but we're going to tell you what he's got sitting on his desk.

Twenty pages to go in "Put Out More Flags." Just about enough to get me across the Hudson, not enough to get me home.

@ 2:59:00 PM,

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