A COLUMNIST is most sincere when he writes about something he knows from experience.

That’s why early morning yesterday, before I sat down to write this column, I went outside the house, lay face down on the ground, placed my palms flat against my sides and had the wife take photographs of me performing what is probably the most noble and self-sacrificing act of this generation-–planking.

The neighbors, who wouldn’t normally stop for anything that would delay their trip to work even if it was their house burning, became seriously worried and paused to check if there was anything wrong with me and our family.

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