I was sitting in my favorite Manhattan Chock Full O'Nuts with my friend Ockie, who drives a cab in town, and was reading to him selected passages from the New York Times. Ockie is a student of the world whose research, were it not for these occasional encounters with the Times, would stop abruptly at the Hudson. I had worked my way down near the end of my second cup of coffee and the middle of the back section when I came across the saga of Robert C. Reynolds. I carefully set my cup down on its saucer and began to read carefully. It was a significant straw in the wind, this epic of Robert Reynolds and I sensed it. "Would you listen to this, Ockie. Just listen to this!''