The Santa Monica slacking has left me way-way behind on things here, including this paper for which I have been The Amityville Horror of collaborators. I have to show bloggerly restraint until I get this mess under control. Please, dear readers, understand.
I'm imagining myself with one of those WWJD bracelets on my wrist. What would JC do? How better to respond to trouble than to try to think of how Johnny Carson would handle the situation? And, so: What I really need is a guest host. (And an orchestra. And that big turban he would wear when playing Carnac the Magnificent.) Joan Rivers is probably too pricy. I wonder what David Brenner is doing, though.