I think I am a truly awful writer. "No, no!" I hear my fan cry, a lone voice in a welter of disinterest. Satire is the last refuge of moral cowardice and although I wear its white feather with, if not pride, a certain carefully constructed and entirely false modesty, there are those more luminous than I who drape themselves in a positively overwhelming feather boa of white, like enthusiastic Gay Pride participants. David Sedaris is a case in point. Sedaris is Garrison Keillor's evil twin: like him, Sedaris focuses on the icy patches that tend to trip one up on life's treacherous sidewalks, though the ice in his work is much more slippery and the falls much more spectacularly funny than in Keillor's. Many of his short essays which appeared originally in theNew Yorker, Esquire In order to be successful one must have had a spectacularly dysfunctional childhood.