There’s a particular expression people wear when their telephone tells them they’ve arrived somewhere they plainly have not. It combines the injured dignity of a hotel guest whose reservation has vanished with a faint suspicion that the building may have moved. They turn slowly on the pavement, studying a blue dot that appears considerably more certain of its whereabouts than they are. Across the street, the restaurant they’ve been searching for waits beneath a sign large enough to interest...

There’s a particular pleasure in buying something one doesn’t need. The useful purchases arrive burdened with responsibilities: the refrigerator must refrigerate, the shoes must fit, the washing machine must justify the trouble of getting it through the door. An unnecessary purchase enjoys a more elegant arrangement. It need only be wanted, preferably by someone who has had a difficult week. Most of us conduct these transactions under modest supervision. A bank balance intervenes. A spouse...

There is a certain kind of person who can persuade an entire room to stop talking simply by opening their mouth. Most of us can’t do this. We open ours and someone asks whether we’ve ordered the potatoes. But a singer, given the right voice and a reasonably sympathetic room, can interrupt dinner, suspend an argument, and make people forget for several minutes that they were about to say something terribly important. It’s an enviable arrangement. Naturally, we’ve built quite an industry around...