 And is there any way in which you feel writing so much history, you know, put aside the obituaries side of it, but just so much American and international history, has it changed how you think about your own life, what you should do with your time? Well, it does give one a sort of carpe diem sense. Often when I lecture particularly to young people, they who are so far from death are kind of obsessed with it, and they always ask me, what's the weirdest cause of death you've ever had? And I say, well, one of my colleagues had a man who was eaten by a crocodile, and, indeed, he was a naturalist going down a river. A crocodile just leapt up and grabbed him. It's a pretty horrific way to go, but it for me, it became kind of a metaphor. You never know as you go through life whether or not that crocodile is around the next bend in the river, so you might as well try to live as good a life as you can and enjoy the hell out of life before you get to that crocodile. And do you ever think of what you're doing in any kind of theological terms? So, for instance, I went back, I looked at a very good book by your husband, it's called Essential Judaism, by George Robinson, that's him. It's a wonderful book, and there are two quotations from that book. I'll read them. One is, a dying person should not be left alone. The other is, escorting the dead is one of the basic acts. And not just those who are Jewish, but I think many people would view this as an appropriate philosophy for thinking about death, dealing with death. You ever think of what you're doing as a kind of written version of carrying out some of this? Sort of, escorting the dead in a literary way and being with them and having society process that in a manner which has a dimension, which is not just news reporting, but tied with interviews of the sacred and higher values. Was that totally separate for you? Well, again, I'm not a colonist, so I'm paid to have no opinion, which means... But you have personal opinions. Which means I'm paid to have no discernible politics and also no discernible religion. And whether or not I am a religious believer in my private life is not germane. Sure. But metaphorically, indeed, there is an aspect of writing obits that where one feels one is charged with the rather weighty responsibility of ushering people out. Now, these are not always people to whom, you know, flights of angels will sing to rest. We are obliged to write news obits, not only of the great heroes of history, but also the great villains. I wrote the obit of Jim Clark, Sheriff Jim Clark, the great enforcer of segregation in Jim Crow, Alabama. It was his Billy Club that was coming down on demonstrators' heads as they tried to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge. I've written obits of Nazi war criminals. So we run the whole gamut. Again, the salient question is, did this person make history for good, but also for ill? And so we have to usher those people out, too. And in those cases, you don't have a warm, fuzzy feeling. You feel like you want to go home, take a shower and have a good stiff drink afterwards. But it's part of the job. Has to be done right.