I have written before about the theory of the expanding universe. Now, post-holiday, I have proof: all my pants are too tight. My tentative hypothesis: living matter expands faster than cloth.

But that's just denial, isn't it? After about the age of 35, Americans tend to put on 5 pounds a year. Do the math. They'll have to bury me in a piano box.

My grandfather used to say one simple exercise could peel off the pounds. Then he would demonstrate. Carefully and deliberately, he would push himself away from the dining room table.

I can still remember it. I was a sophomore in high school, and had to give a talk for my Civics class. It was agonizing: would I be called on that day, or the next? Part of me desperately wanted to put it off. Part of me just wanted it to be OVER.

Like thousands upon thousands of people, I was absolutely terrified of public speaking.

Dear readers,

Here's another letter I received from our unofficial, self-proclaimed ombudsman, Ms. Featheruffle. Incidentally, I'm closing in on the clues.

The letters are arriving from the email of one Missy Hess, a shelver at the Parker Library. At any rate, Ms. Featheruffle seems to have gotten her tongue stuck firmly in her cheek. I think. - Jamie LaRue

Dear Mr. LaRue:

Years ago, I was working my very first job as a professional librarian. I was an Assistant Professor at Illinois State University. Among my responsibilities was to work the general reference desk, not too far from the main entrance to the library.