I threw about three punches and the next thing I knew, I was on my back holding my broken nose. ‘Sorry Hennessy,’ Jackson said as he helped me up....‘You rushed me a little and I couldn’t pull my punches. You all right? We better get you to the medical center and have you nose looked at. Come on son, I’ll walk you over.’ That was the second time I had my nose broken. I thought I knew a lot about fighting but I realized that someone with training would clean my clock almost every time and that. As a journalist, I was frequently at those functions too and so it was that, in the capital of a small South American country, I met the Dutch ambassador. He liked to be known as Johnny. He was tall and fair-haired, like many Dutch people, but his hair was longish and curly and he didn’t have the severe look that many of his diplomatic peers did. Johnny liked rock music and dining out. His wife, Lori (short for Lothlorien and she didn’t really know why her parents had called her that) was not. More

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