It’s wonderful that my friend, Buddy Cianci, comes to see me perform at The Sidebar, with his beautiful girlfriend, Dawn. I like to have my picture taken with celebrities, don’t you? It makes me feel special. And make no mistake: Buddy is a celebrity. Of course, my dog, Howard is very well known.He is welcome in every home, theater, restaurant, doctor’s office, in town, except Down City Diner. Some people have no sense of humor, worse yet, they suffer from a condition I call “over-earnestness.” Let me explain something to you. Howard is a service animal. What service does he perform? Emotional support. I have the papers to prove it. It is a federal offense to deny me entrance into any public establishment. My doctor told me to call the police if I am ever turned away from a bowling alley or YMCA, pizza joint or tattoo parlor. Thanks to the Americans With Disabilities Act of 1998, I am able to be with Howard 24 hours a day. I kid about Howard. I tell people his service vest is a joke, because it started out as a joke. But after a year or two I began to depend on Howard in stressful situations, i.e. any situation happening outside my bedroom door. When I lost my mother, Howard was with me, in the hospice. He was with me, also, when friends, lovers, employers and family relations abandoned or betrayed me. Howard is my constant. For this middle aged, lonely woman, Howard is a comfort and a life-saver. You see the photograph. Buddy is with a blonde. I am also with a blonde. If you can’t beat em, join em…..