I was just trying to joke at my own expense with the "perceived" thing. ("So, what do you think about Eric?" "Total stud." "And Harlow?" "He's … male. As far as I can tell, anyhow.") Outwardly, I'm a dashing ladies' man, naturally. Inside, however, I'm a bookish lesbian. (Strike that and reverse it if the…

We only saw "Set It Off" together because I'm one of those "lesbro" or "dyke mike" type of guys (opposite of a fag hag), and I think the tears tipped the scales in my favor. I was only trying to find humor in the fact that I was a big pussy for crying at such a thing, but that it helped me "score" with a lesbian. …

Point taken, and then some. "Fidgety spinster" was indeed glib; I was making a wisecrack, and I liked the way it sounded (the assonance, I guess — hence: "restless hen," "nervous bird," etc.). Sorry, but the stereotype of "JCO" isn't a granny or little old lady; it's an owlish old maid, a witchy-looking spinster,…

It shames me to admit that Spielberg at his treacly worst manipulated a tearful reaction out of me with one scene in "Hook." When that one little Lost Boy (blatantly, a pint-sized "magical negro" contrivance) searches Robin Williams' face and recognizes the young Peter Pan within him … ach, I can't believe it, I…

You win. There is absolutely nothing "spinster"-ish or birdlike about Joyce Carol Oates; that is merely a sexist caricature. It's as unfair and sexist as saying that Sylvia Plath was "hysterical."

I wish one of Brimley's diabetes (that's pronounced "die-a-beetis") commercials featured him using a hot wire as a blood glucose meter. If your blood hisses at you and leaps out of the Petri dish, you know your blood-sugar level is too low.

For the record, I did make the same comment about Updike's latest (I even mention Oates in it).

It's been a while since she's written anything as Rosamond Smith, but there was a "Lauren Kelly" book a couple of years ago.

He's, like, Mr. Bufu! We're talking Lord God King Bufu.

By "his," I meant Chizmar's. Sorry — added Schaech to the subject line as an afterthought.

Chizmar and Schaech
I like his work, though I know him mostly as an editor (he's the owner/publisher/editor of Cemetery Dance). "October Dreams" is a terrific anthology, if you're a Halloween geek like me.

With two Cohens involved, the character should be called Shylock Holmestein.

I'm confused. Are you the pot, or is he? Are you black, short, and stout?

Nathan, you should know that, instead of trying to find a suitable rhyme for "Rabbin" (blabbin', stabbin', etc.), I've reworked my love poems for Ben Vereen. His IMDb mini bio describes him as a "glitzy, indefatigable showman if ever there was one," so you will just have to try harder to win my affections back.

Those are, in all seriousness, good suggestions. However, if you want something other than horror, romance, thriller, or comedy, just contact Oates, tell her what type of book you'd like to read, and she will send you a completed manuscript within a week.

Prolificacy is fun to say
What is this, like, the seventeenth book Oates has published so far this year? I'm sorry, but, at a certain point, finding out that she's written a new book is like finding out that a fidgety spinster has crocheted another sweater for one of her cats.

I'm also at a loss in light of the whole "Rabbin" revelation. It totally throws off the rhyme scheme for all the love poems I've written for Nathan.

Never heard of The Stairs, but I'm listening to some of their "Unnatural Bridge" tracks right now, and they're great. Thanks for the heads-up.

I'm just glad that he corrected the thing about Paul Revere's North Church lantern signal. According to Berman, it was two if by land, three if by sea, one if by bicycle, ten if Revere saw a hot girl who was a "10," and free if the pizza wasn't delivered in 30 minutes or less.

Current tour
Has anyone seen Berman and his band perform recently? They'll be playing close to where I live this summer, but, even though I'm a longtime SJ fan, I'm as reluctant to see Berman live as he has typically been to perform live. Should I expect an awkward, admiration-shattering mess of a show?