The old guy has never trusted telephones. He likes to look at the people he’s talking to. Also, he figures the telephone is just a passing fad, soon to be replaced by a thing called a personal letter. So, for all those fans and fanatics who keep calling the The Dispatch offices wishing to talk to the great one, put it in writing. Insider does not keep office hours. Those are for suckers. The letter will be in his special pouch for pick-up or hand delivered by one of the powers that be. And if it is truly confidential put it in a sealed letter addressed to "Insider" and mail it an envelope addressed to this newspaper. Don’t forget the zip code, 21811, or are they really meaningless as Insider’s favorite character, Newman, from Seinfeld once said.
Insider doesn’t just shake anyone’s hand. He’s not like every other weak idiot out there who just goes around extending his hand to anyone willing to give it a shake. They are so pathetic and need constant reassurance that people like them. There’s one or more of those types at every cocktail party. You know the type. They walk in, work the room and shake hands with every guy around and kiss and hug every guy’s wife inappropriately. They make fools of themselves. To Insider, a handshake means something. It’s a sign of respect and should coincide with a look in the eye. Insider doesn’t even do it with people he respects all the time, largely because he has a bad right hand from an injury suffered years ago with a railroad tie. To simply go around shaking every hand in sight is a politician’s job, not a real man’s.
Insider is going to have to find his thrice daily Goldenberg Peanut Chew fix elsewhere. He figured stopping by the police station everyday in his black cape and mask would go unnoticed, what with all the crooks and bandits standing by. It worked for a while and he became a regular at the cop’s candy machine. But then the fuzz started noticing that the Peanut Chews were selling out every fourth day and became suspicious and planned a stake-out. Fortunately, Insider has a snitch on the inside.
3 in 1 ruled the roost for scores of years. It was the only household oil anyone ever needed and it was in every home in America, It was a fixture and it did the job. Then some guy named WD-40 came along with an oil-like spray and convinced us it was better simply because it was "new." It may have been new but it wasn’t better, far from it. Today when something needs oiling we are forced to oil everything within a four-foot radius of the target. 3 in 1 is still on the market and Insider has two cans of it sitting on the kitchen shelf. That’s where 3 in 1 was always kept, on the kitchen shelf.