Great are the days when RjR comes bounding into the office unexpectedly in shirt & tie with a stickball bat across his shoulder. No one does this but him. Everyone is afraid to pass through the mysterious unmarked door at the top of the stairs, but not RjR. "I've got a tie on, nobody's gonna mess with me", he boldly states. Outside, M & T are standing in the parking lot eating munchkins and sipping coffee. We proceed en masse across West Street to the common, where on the freshly mown grass, we take up our positions for some righteous barefooted fast-pitch stickball. And the best part is, after playing for an hour, returning to my desk all sweaty and grass-stained, and nobody noticing or questioning my absence.