I love my new pad. Finally after two weeks of moving, I’m almost semi-organized. And there’s a comfort in not being obliged to have a neat house, you simply say, “Excuse the mess, I just moved.” Of course 12 months hence may be the cut off time for that remark, although I’ve heard Europeans allow 18 months to get settled as long as your espresso maker is running and you have ashtrays for company. If I go over 12 months with the Home Depot grande boxes still staring at me, I’m definitely going to draw on my European heritage for an excuse. (You believe that, right?)

So I’m moving and the thing I hate most in life is moving. I’m a bad mover. I wait until the last minute and then lament about how I have no time to move.

As I was packing my things I came across some of my old comedy notebooks. I used type everything and then put it all in a 3-ring binder. The earliest notebook I found was from June 1984 - typed on my IBM Selectric with the courier ball head, all nice, neat and organized. Then 1985 came and I...

There are just too many choices in everyday life. From the minute you wake up in the morning until you plunk yourself spent, into bed at night, it’s decide, decide, decide. I get exhausted just thinking about it.

 For instance, on a typical day – I’ll wake up and right away the choices begin. Do I watch a DVR’d Mad Men while I drink my morning coffee? (A little shot of Don Draper is always a good way to start the day.)

Or…do I watch the news and be...

All right, let’s get past the PC and BS – ASAP, and tell it like it is – there are far too many weirdos around. And I don’t mean just the garden-variety sociopaths and head cases that walk down the street mumbling about how aliens are among us and are stealing our laundry. I’m talking about the “out there” kind of weirdos – the kind that would make Norman Bates raise an eyebrow.

One of the best places to see a pageantry of nut bags is in Publix. Any Publix. Instead of “Where Shopping is a Pleasure”, their slogan should be “Where Shopping is a...