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ON THE EDGE: Return to abnormal

I miss John Boehner. I miss Harry Reid, “Plan B” and Eric Cantor. I even miss Donald Trump and Mitt. I miss the terrible anxiety of the fiscal cliff, and the push and shove of the hordes rushing through the mall. This week I pulled back the sheets to reveal that I am not only a political junkie, but an unabashed stress junkie.

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ON THE EDGE: Lemme tell ya about cliffs

With the horrible specter of the fiscal cliff approaching, the “shudder” has become the national gesture. It’s almost Christmas, and people are looking scared. I’ve seen that look before. As most of you know, I’m a lot older than I seem. I may appear to be 38, but it’s an illusion.

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ON THE EDGE: Password to the wise

It’s the password thing. My early memories of the password were simple: a game show, or the code spoken in the dark, so you didn’t get shot. But the rules are different now, and at my advanced age I have moved — no, fallen — headlong into the 21st century.

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ON THE EDGE: Judy from Jersey

She was tall, Judy was, maybe 5 feet, 11 inches in her bare feet. I confess a life-long passion for tall girls. I called her Judy and she never liked it. Her name was Judith, and she insisted that everyone who knew her call her that, because she wanted to be an opera singer and Judy wouldn’t cut it.