I was sitting at my desk pen in hand, writing pad in front of me, when old friend Tex Luther walked in. "Oh, excuse me," he said. "Am I interrupting some great literary project?" "Yes, you are," I said with a smile. "And may I ask what it is?" "I'm filling in the gap." "What gap?" "The gap on my tombstone." "There's a gap on your tombstone?" "Well, there isn't yet.