I have a terrible confession to make

Ha, but no. Fan mail is not my thing. I never understood the point.

 

When I was 11 or 12 I sent Barry Switzer a pack of Switzer's and asked for an Oklahoma practice football.

He sent me an OU media guide instead.

 

My little brother was about that age and read some story about Latrell Sprewell overcoming some hardship or another. He thought it was cool and wrote to tell him so. A few weeks later he got a package with all kinds of signed stuff. A basketball card, couple of posters, a T-shirt, I think a couple other little things.

Then a few more weeks go by and Sprewell had the choking incident. I go down to my brother's room and all that stuff was ripped off the wall and torn to shreds.

 

My friend, Randy Taraborrelli, writes his very successful biographies on The Kennedys, Beyonce, etc. at a booth at a Sherman Oaks Starbucks at 6 a.m. every single morning. He's a machine.

 

I use the coffitivity app, while I'm in a coffee shop; I once tweeted about the vortex within the space-time continuum that this action caused, and I received my most retweets ever. Clearly, I'm not the only one who uses canned coffee shop noise to drown out noise while in a coffee shop.

 

The coffee-shop woman knew how I wanted my sandwich today. I'm not sure I can do this anymore.

 

It's always good to be thought of as a regular - whether at a bar or restaurant. Or, I guess, coffee shop. But they better damn well have iced tea if they want my business.

 

I changed my order today just to keep her on her toes. But she did refer to "my" table.

 

Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I became a regular at this barbecue restaurant down the road from my apartment. Two, three times a week I'd go in there for lunch and get the "House Special" (sliced, no slaw, regular sauce, with fries and a Coke). There was a young lady working behind the counter ... I got to be such a fixture that as soon as she saw me come in she'd flash a smile and call out the order.

I had a bit of a crush on her, but did I, the quintessence of the lonely bachelor, ever do anything other than go in there for barbecue? Oh hell no. What a dumbass I was.

The man in the movie was right ... youth is wasted on the young.

 

Am I the only one still working in a library?

 

I've always had an office, but I worked at the library when I lost power at my house in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy. It's nearby with a pleasant, sunny room, plenty of seating, reliable wifi and quiet.