It turns out that the Penn Club of Manhattan, a club for University of Pennsylvania alumni, has a portrait of one of its more famous members, Donald Trump, hanging on the wall.
The thing is, it's low on the wall, hidden behind a sofa.
This is slightly amusing, but it reminds me of one of the funnier bits of my family history.
While my father taught at the University of Virginia, he also taught at the Federal Executive Institute (FEI).
The FEI had a New Year's Eve party every year, and my mom would get schicker, swipe the official photograph of then President Richard Nixon, and hang it in the lady's room.
One year, some wag found the portrait in the lady's room, and with a marker put a mustache (and perhaps also glasses) on the portrait.
It's not that big a deal, the marking was on the glass, but someone at FEI took great umbrage at this bit of alcohol induced merriment, particularly the mustache (and perhaps also glasses).
Somehow or other, one year, Nixon's portrait ended up in house, and was hung above the upstairs toilet.
It's location was the source of no small amount of amusement among guests to our house.
When we moved from Charlottesville in August 1975, about a year after Nixon resigned in disgrace, mom and dad decided to return the portrait.
My dad hung it back up on the wall at FEI, and it vanished it about 5 minutes.
As bizarre as this may sound, I may be the most normal member of my family.
What great malefactor would you have a toilet picture of?