There was a time when I was a newspaper editor that I forgot I wasn’t part of the inner circle. I was a “hanger on,” as Richard Gere’s character is described in “American Gigolo” (1980). That’s probably a gentle way of describing Gere’s whore and a rough way of describing me, or maybe not. Fact is, we were highly skilled at what we did, but disposable. Thankfully, I was never framed for murder. (Unfortunately, I never scored with Lauren Hutton.) It’s not what you know. It’s not who you know. It’s what you know about who you know that matters.