There are only three things in this world that give you unquestioned loyalty: dogs, donuts, and money.

Now I understand. The magic really IS in the hole.

They wobble, but they don't fall down.

Some people collect Hummel figurines. Some people collect estate jewelry. Some people collect classic cars.

I collect 1970's-era Weebles.

In the early 1970's, I was on this show called Romper Room a couple of times. I used to watch it, and got a chance to be on a couple of episodes when I was 4 or 5. It was a sub-optimal experience. The sets were flimsy, and the mirror didn't really swirl around like it did on TV.

But one of the things that Romper Room provided to the American culture was the "bop bag", an inflatable plastic clown that one could hit like a punching bag. It was bottom-heavy, so when you hit the thing it would list sideways and then right itself. It taught kids that the best thing you can do when you're feeling ornery is to beat someone up with your fists. (Since I can't stand clowns, I don't really have a problem with it in this case.) When Hasbro bought the show in 1969, it started marketing these little plastic versions of bop bags called Weebles.

The ones I like are the ones made around the mid-1970s. The examples shown here are a combination of Disney's Winnie-The-Pooh Weebles, as well as some made by Sesame Street. There's also a clown Weeble, which I keep in the little treehouse because, again, clowns are creepy and weird. I also have the box for the treehouse.

Weebles aren't very expensive. The most I've paid for a Weeble is about 15 bucks. Someday I'll take them to the Roadshow. But it's a fun little diversion to keep me from acknowledging the roiling sea of rage that exists just below my serene surface.

Dancer Hotness: Roberto Bolle

It's hard to resist a trained ballet dancer like Roberto Bolle. Such graceful movements. And he's Italian. And an Armani model. And danced for the Pope and the Queen. And is now, as of 2009, the first Italian male dancer to join the American Ballet Theatre (New York) as a principal. He's 34... not a spring chicken, especially in the ballet world.

I'd say he looks pretty damned good in still photographs, but scroll down to see him dance. It's even better.

Michael Jackson, 50.

I hope his troubled soul rests in peace.

These things happen in threes. Who's next?

You liiike? I liiike !!!

I just had to flog this picture of Barbara Bush sitting next to Justin Clynes a little bit more. It's way too "Dixie Wetsworth" to let it slip by without comment.

The white zone is for the loading and unloading of passengers only.

I wonder sometimes if Madison will ever be a real city. Probably not.

Here you see me in the airport at Madison, waiting to leave for St. Louis for a business trip. Note the fact that it's the middle of the day and ain't nobody in the airport. You might be tempted to think that I'm in some little-known terminal used by an obscure Slavic airline. No. It's American Airlines, honey. And there's only one terminal at MSN.

Here, you see a booger that someone wiped on the outside of the window. I am in St. Louis for a meeting with my friend Edie. This was the beginning of a booze-soaked afternoon/evening extravaganza that was nothing short of legendary. St. Louis was relatively gross, at least in the downtown part where we were staying. We left early.



I'm back in Madison. What a pretty day, right? It's the middle of the afternoon. On a Sunday. You'll notice that I'm standing in the center of the road, with my back to traffic. Nothing. Nada. You could shoot a cannon down the center of the road and not hit a thing. The little skyway from the terminal to the parking ramp makes me chuckle... as if we needed something to protect pedestrians from the horde of arriving/deparing travelers.

Farrah Fawcett, 62.

Farrah Fawcett lost her battle with anal cancer today. Strange how she started out so vigorously in the 70s and then later in life she sort of lost her way. Her family seemed to unravel too, which couldn't have been easy. I'm glad her suffering has ended. Good night, Angel.