As he muses, Gutfeld leans back in a lounge chair wearing sweatpants with his back to the soaring glass walls that frame a breathtaking, wooded view. Gutfeld’s hair has gone salt-and-pepper. But sitting there, laughing at his own jokes, bobbing his legs up and down on the ottoman, slapping his thighs, he could pass, at a glance, for someone’s rambunctious kid back from college with a head swimming with ideas.
