NOT LONG AGO, THEEDITOR-IN-CHIEF of this magazine, Sid Evans, invited me on a two-and-a-half-daydeer hunt at his father's club in Mississippi. To understand what an editor islike, picture an Afghan warlord--bloodthirsty, cunning, perpetually bent onrevenge--plying his dark art in a room decorated with the trophy skulls of hisenemies. Â Lose the turban, give him some skin-care products and a littledental work, and-- voila!--say hello to the boss. But make no mistake. Thedynamics are unchanged. When he issues an invitation to me, a humble footsoldier, I accept instantly.