I bowled with science fiction author Larry Niven last night at a birthday party for my friend, his nephew. I failed to gush or make an ass of myself. I resisted asking him why he didn't write a sequel to Lucifer's Hammer, which I am reliably informed is a stupid question. I didn't even make an ass of myself after a couple of Kamikazes. There may be some hope for me socially after all.
Or not. After we left the party, held at a trendy Hollywood bowling alley/club, we passed Groman's Chinese Theatre, where people dress up like various movie characters and pose with tourists. It's fun because sometimes you can see an unconvincing Darth Vader get in a fistfight with Marilyn Monroe over sidewalk space. Anyway, it was past nine and the only characters left were Elmo and one of the Transformers. Elmo started pestering me to pay to have my wife's picture taken with him. My wife — who, after four cosmos, had redder eyes than Elmo – was uninterested. So I offered Elmo and Optimus Prime $20 each to fight if I could take pictures of it. They passed.
Last 5 posts by Ken White
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