You never hear people say "hanky panky" anymore

I have a dry cleaner in my building, but I go down the block because I like the motherly Korean lady who runs the place. I took my vacation laundry in today, and while she sorted through it, she said, "Ai-ya! Lipstick all over this shirt. You have some hanky panky?"

I think there are people other than doctors and priests who need confidentiality rules.

All my stories have strippers

Several loose ends and stray threads got tied up on this trip to Las Vegas. The top 5 things I learned:

1) I think I know things, but I don't know dick. About betting football, partly, but it's a good thought to keep in mind generally.

2) A burnt orange suit may just look like a slick, stylish brown indoors and at night, but in bright desert sunlight, hoo-boy, it might be pretty orange.

3) For fondue, putting a hunk of rice krispie treat on a stick and dipping it in chocolate is a kick-ass idea.

4) Jesus is only interesting up to a point. And even pretty naked ladies talking about Jesus is only interesting up to a point.

5) If a dancer insists that you exchange cell numbers, sometimes it is because you're going to be friends, but sometimes it's because she's trying to conduct certain types of business off-premises. I should be the last one to be naively unable to tell the difference, but, getting back to lesson #1, I fool the shit out of myself sometimes.

I love October

It's the official start of pumpkin pie season, Michigan is 5-0, the Tigers are in the playoffs, and it's time to bring out the jack-o-lanterns. I always get started with a Mr. Pumpkin Head for Kiki.



In a couple of weeks there will probably be a pumpkin-carving party (with pie). But I'll never be able to match this one.

Ah, memories ... wait, I don't remember

My sister mailed me something she found in an old book that apparently hasn't been opened in more than 20 years since she took it from the house we grew up in. Note the memo on what the check is for.



Apparently no pictures or negatives were found in the vicinity of the check, and for the life of me I can't remember what the gag was. Man, I'm getting old.

Anil, if you're out there, I guess it's safe. I've got nothing on you.

I've had fresh legs since 1988

So it was happy hour, but one of us was late. When she got there, she announced that she was just ex-HAUS-ted. Wow, from what, I had to ask.

Well, apparently she was stuck in the office for an extra hour dealing with West Coast people. "So you were on the phone? And you're exhausted from that?"

I was just giving her a hard time, but it's quite possible this woman has never been tired in her life. Not really tired. And I don't mean that as criticism. I probably haven't been genuinely exhausted since college, when I spent a couple of weekends bucking hay on a prof's farm. Now that'll wear you out. It's hot, ass-busting work.



What she and I do, on the other hand, doesn't make people tired. Basically, I type. I even got a trackball so I don't have to put out the effort necessary to move a stupid mouse around. Work has made me sleepy (especially some writers), but not exhausted.

Truly, in the last 18 years, I doubt I've done anything that legitimately required me to rest afterward, other than play tennis. To see my picture in the dictionary, the word people will have to look up is "sedentary."



That's not bad news to me. I just need a reminder sometimes that I should never act like my life is ever all that tough. Or some jackhole might call me on it over margaritas.

One messed-up broad

It was sunny and hot, but I nevertheless agreed to accompany Kiki (no, the title does not refer to her) to the Gold Coast Art Fair, because I suspected I might get a free lemonade out of it. Fortunately I was right, and it was just outside my door, after all.

The streets of my neighborhood were lined with a couple hundred tents full of paintings, sculpture, jewelry and various crafts, tons of it breathtakingly craptastic. But there was some moderately cool stuff too. I tend to prefer 3-D art to the 2-D kind, and I like when the sculpture looks like something. Say ... a gigantic iron pig.



I must like animals. Even this slightly more abstract acrylic thing seemed cool. Maybe it's hard to tell in this picture, but I think it's a bunch of swan heads. Anyway, I like how it catches colors.



Then we found an sculptor who worked in bronze. A lot of her pieces seemed to have a certain theme. This is called "Now, As I Was Saying..."



And this one is entitled, "A Breakdown In Negotiations" (yes, that's the artist in the background).



There were others, including one of a woman taking a guy down by the neck with a flying headlock. A sweet little girl who was looking around asked Kiki, "Are they all of girls beating up boys?" Even at 7 years old, it only took her about 30 seconds to scope it out -- something has gone wrong in this woman's head.

I wanted to buy her a lemonade for reacting with what seemed like concern, rather than brainless you-go-girlism. But I already had a date.

Orleans Street bridge

Still figuring out the nuances of the camera. On the list of pros and cons of my job -- this is my view when I run to the 7-11 for coffee and Twinkies.