A long time ago, I read that as long as a house has books on the shelves and art on the walls, it's a home. That counsel has served me pretty well. But Ayn Rand is always a deal-breaker. Whenever I visit someone's home for the first time, I scan the bookcases. If I see any Rand, I glance anxiously at my watch, and announce that I'd almost forgotten that I was expected elsewhere and really, really must be going.