My colleague Jill is in her late twenties,
doing great in her career, but living
by herself without any real prospects.
“I have nothing,” she said to me one day.
“Sometimes nothing can be a real cool hand,”
I told her, but could tell she failed to catch
the reference. “You know, from Cool Hand Luke?
Paul Newman?” Jill did not know who that was.
She asked me, “Was he in Casablanca?”
“No, that was Humphrey Bogart,” I explained.
“Paul Newman’s been in lots and lots of things.”
A flash of recognition crossed her face.
“Oh, wait! Is he that salad-dressing dude?”
“Yes, right,” I said, “the salad-dressing dude.”