"Nobody puts Todd Carlin in a corner."

This month's Paul F. Tompkins Show was superlative on many levels. My only regret is that my voice is still so missing that I couldn't really cheer for any purpose beyond soundless aspiration. I tried to, but anyone listening to a mic trained just on me would have probably been made sad by my efforts. Sometimes, one is forced to resort to simple clapping. But my tiny little hands sure do get sore.

Paget Brewster is my hero of elocution. She also played a mean (and by "mean" I mean "fine") Ursa in the Sci-Fi Fantasy Pageant of several months ago. Thigh-high boots were made for a reason, and I think that reason is her. She did not wear any such thing at Largo on Monday, but she materially participated in what Martín is calling his favorite Paul F. Tompkins Show ending of all time. Except maybe for the J.F.K. assassination ending. Or maybe perhaps right in league with it. It's so hard to rank. It's not as if the show is ever anything but great. Mostly, I just rate my experiences on the basis of how disappointed I was or wasn't in the food I ordered. On Monday, I made the bold choice to not eat anything at all and to drink several cocktails. That, I maintain, is a top-notch choice.