No real surprise there: Otherwise I would be reading your blog rather than you reading my blog.
When I heard Dave Barry was coming to town I immediately called my only remaining friend in Cleveland, Rachel.
She agreed to be seen in public with me, if I gave her one of my air conditioners. Sounded fair enough.
Even though I was in an amazing amount of pain from cutting myself with a razor blade while taking a cutting from a plant, I still had a great time.
Aside from befriending me, Dave Barry did magic tricks and read and told jokes.
Adults asked questions like, Do you agree with Rene Girard's theory of mimetic desire as an organizing principle....
Kids asked questions like, How come in the third novel, the camel goes poop on the king's head?
O.K. I asked that question.
Unfortunately, when I returned home, the plant had died. 
But it was all worth it, because Dave Barry gave me his autograph and his eternal friendship.
