The evidence of time has, I hope, proven Mama’s wisdom. With every thwack of Miss Buela’s corrective switch, I soon learned the fine art of gentlemanliness; the Windsor knot, the four-in-hand, the gracious bow, the waltz, entering one’s name on a dance card, the proper way to hold one’s refreshments. By my 16th birthday I was ready to make my society debut at the 1971 Charleston Boy’s Cotillion. Oh, how Mama and Miss Buelah beamed with matronly pride as I promenaded across the ballroom floor with my escort (and second cousin once removed) Miss Blanche Dwerryhouse. I like to think Daddy would have beamed at my dashing waltz too, had he not been delayed by an emergency prior engagement that magical Charleston evening.