�Whatever happened to the day when a human being like myself is rewarded with a certificate of appreciation/recognition?�

That�s the question asked yesterday in a letter to the editor of our local paper, by a man who several months ago foiled an early-morning assault on a woman on the street near his house. The question, which opens his letter, is followed by a detailed account of the incident, including several mentions of the thanks he received from the police officer involved and the would-be victim, whose name he doesn�t mention.

I like his can-do attitude. His proactive stance in demanding written recognition, and in its absence, creating it himself, reflects the kind of initiative required to foil robberies of all types. I think that human beings like ourselves can take away a valuable lesson from this incident, which is: �Revisit the proper use of reflexive pronouns.�

In other news, as I dressed for work this morning, I looked down and saw that my boots�high heeled, black Spanish leather�are covered with a glossy spatter. I was eventually able to identify the substance as a mixture of grapefruit juice and vodka, which I poured (not specifically by design) down the front of my dress during the gig on Friday, in a misguided attempt to chug the entire drink in one gulp while avoiding choking on the ice. The long gold necklace I was wearing acted as a sort of rainspout, channeling the bulk of the liquid directly onto my boots. It was a highly special moment, one for which a human being like myself definitely should be rewarded with a certificate.

For one account of the show, you can go see Snobsspace, set up by our kind hosts for the evening, the fabulous (and surprisingly down-to-earth) Snobs, who did not even demand certificates for themselves' trouble.

And with that, I am off to clean these boots.

Star of the day. . .Dot, Betty & Helen