POKE-NOSE: I have a neighbor, an older guy, who doesn't get out much. He's not in very good health. Once a week or so, if he's able, he makes a constitutional around the block. Over the years, we've built up a fun relationship, swapping a kind word or two when our paths cross. He likes me, and I like him, although our life experiences are quite different. He thinks my old Mercedes is a "Rolls Royce," and I don't correct him. He seems to like to think I'm a big deal.

"You off on another trip?" he asked this morning.

"I am," I say. "The Poconos."

"The who?"

"The Poconos. Mountains in Pennsylvania. A resort."

"Uh huh," he says, smiling. "Poke-nose!"

"There's a conference there," I tell him. "I'm speaking."

"They got good pizza there," he says, not asking. "In the Poke-nose."

"They do?" I ask.

"Oh, yeah," he says, his eyes narrowing as he imagines it. "You'll see."

"I'll try it," I tell him. "Thanks."

"Okay, then," he says, smiling. "You try it."