CLAY Felker’s band of rogues turned out in force the other day at the Society for Ethical Culture to eulogize the legendary founding editor of New York magazine. Novelist Tom Wolfe said, “Clay was never a cynic and always in awe of how life is lived here.” Lesley Stahl recalled, “Clay was always so confident about his own tastes, including the time Gail [Sheehy, his wife of 24 years] dumped a soup tureen of lumpy green goo onto his head while wearing his pool whites,” and Richard Reeves said, “You might have been a headache, Clay, but you never were a bore.”