A World War II veteran (retired professor, writer, author, former president of professional societies), survivor of combat as an infantryman who fought through France, Germany and Austria, sat with family and listened as "the large one" told everyone all about that conflict non-stop, "lickety-spit," expatiating authoritatively—with untouchable, invincible finality—on not only the war but everything else under the sun, moon, and stars.

Patient, long-suffering, the veteran let him go on and on, aware that the large one's very innermost and outermost self and pelf hinged on engagement in self-aggrandizing talking binges. O.K., so the large one wasn't there, but he had read about that conflict and what he hadn't read he could make up, make real, lived through in his imagination. The U.S. Army had a slang expression for that: a blimp--full of lots of hot air.

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