The Catcher In The Wry

The Catcher in the WryThe Putrid way I really am, if you've got to know, is slightly maraschino. That's what my kid brother, Otto, calls it. He's a real gone brat, Otto; I mean, he really is. Slightly precocious for four-and-a-half, going on five, but then, who isn't? Like the time he was watching me slick up for a date and puts his arms akimbo (I like that word; I really do) and cocks his corny little pointed head and sneers:"Oh, boy, big deal! Going to a dance at the youth centerl Rowdy-d...