This actually happened: Sitting in my neighborhood sports bar, nursing a buzz and trying to get over the fact that my alma mater got screwed by the BCS, I happened to notice my favorite bartendress was carrying a heavy table from one room into another, at the request of one of the patrons. I asked if she "needed a hand", and when she said yes, I politely applauded (sorry, it's an old Bob Newhart joke). Anyways, the patron she was doing that for turns around, laughing, and it's none other than...Flavor Flav. He turned around, wearing the trademark clock around his neck, complimented me on my bon mot, and gave me a soul handshake before sitting down and holding court with his friends (no Brigitte Nelson, though). The blessings of living in a celebrity haven....