I was a closet pacifier advocate. So were most of my friends. Unknown to our mothers, we owned thirty or forty of those little suckers that were placed strategically around the house so a cry could be silenced in less than thirty seconds. Even though bottles were boiled, rooms disinfected, and germs fought one on one, no one seemed to care where the pacifier had been.

There would have been more 'I love you's' and more, 'I'm sorry's'.

In Russia, as I sat there day after day wearing headphones, listening to the interpreter struggle to make our words relevant, I wondered if we could establish meaningful rapport with a nation that had never seen raisins dance in dark glasses on TV...never had a garage sale.

I will buy any creme, cosmetic, or elixir from a woman with a European accent.

I have just come up with a wonderful solution to end all wars. Let me give directions on how to get there.

I do not participate in any sport with ambulances at the bottom of the hill.

Bombeck's Rug Rule: an ugly carpet will last for ever.