David? What do we know about David? David is the guy in the office who can be counted on to clean up the mess. He likes things clean. For instance, the other day I heard him saying “Don’t break a sweat, I’ll pick up that garbage. Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll throw out my back.” He is the last guy you’d want in a nuclear submarine that doesn’t surface for eight months on end. I take that back (another favorite of David’s). In a game of poker or Monopoly he’d whoop your ass, which certainly on an eight-month cruise, under the water, might keep things lively.  He’s good at his job. It is a point of pride. At home, alone with his dog and his plants, he is at peace. On weekends, charged up on all the juicy info in the New York Times, David is ready to take on the world. This big, generous “life is good” feeling lasts through early Monday morning when he’s made it a habit of yielding his seat on a crowded train to any deserving person, like say, a pregnant woman or better yet, a pretty one.