HB COLD

I have fans everywhere. That was the discovery I made last night. I was in a bar called "We Got Beef" (even though I can safely assume that not a single person in that bar had ever seen Wendy's "Where's the Beef" commercial) when a young, spiffy, almost yuppie looking guy came up to me and asked if I was Howard Brodsky. Well, I am and so I said as much. Turns out he was a fan of my J-town journal column back in the days when I could bitch publicly to any and all about what was causing me grief at any given moment. Well, that was about as exciting as it got, but still...fans everywhere people, everywhere.

Another interesting place about this bar was that I think I may have been one of the oldest guys there. Not something I enjoyed noticing by the way, but I noticed it nevertheless. What's strange is earlier in the evening we were at another bar where I was easily one of the youngest guys there. And aside from a few pounds here and a few wrinkles there, I couldn't tell the two places apart.