“I think you’re going to be famous,” Henry, the super, told me one day as he saw me passing through the lobby, “but it’ll be after you’re dead.” I don’t know why he said that, or what he was basing it on. He sounded sincere, meaning no insult, and I took none. But it was over thirty years ago and I’ve never forgotten it. I wonder not why he said it – I don’t even want to know that – but whether it’s true. Henry was no dummy, and might have picked up on some truth even if base