Homeless at Airport

In Philly I spoke for the National Society of Newspaper Columnists. Bill O'Reilly warmed up the crowd by calling them cross-eyed liberals and storming offstage.

I always thought Bill had to work his way up to that anger, maybe do some stretching. Turns out that he rolls out of bed that way.

"Fe fi fo fum, I smell libertarians."

For the talk I received a crystal statue that figures prominently into my plans for world domination. The others stole glances at it while debating politics, headlines, civil rights. I contributed only when I had something important to say like, "How come The Hulk's shirt came off, but never his pants?"

Whatever I lacked in social grace I made up for in Jim Beam -- "Give your brain the afternoon off." Mr. Beam was still in charge when I, somewhere between the cab and the airport curb, lost my wallet (estimated distance: five paces).

I searched my pockets at first confidently, invincibly, then with that sinking sensation you get when your car is stolen. You consider every explanation, including alien abduction, before sitting where you are and saying, "They'll be back ... They'll be back."

It's strange to be without I.D. You're turned away by airport bouncers and left to wander the earth like a fugitive until authorities arrive in their hovermobiles to scan your eyeballs and whisk you into a steaming manhole where you live out your days serving Authorized Citizens.

Eyeing the food cart, I thought about lifting a Buffalo wing. The only thing that stopped me was Jean Valjean from "Les Miserables"...

"What have I done? Become a thief in the night, a dog on the run. I have fallen so far and the hour so late that nothing remains but the cry of my hate."

No, I would not break into song; I would call my ex-wife and tough-love friendYahaira, who assured me that once I got over my poopy pants, I would find the blessing. Maybe, for instance, the scheduled plane had a virus such as Bill O' Reilly.

I got busy calling Visa, Experian, airport security, the library (we can't have someone reading under my name). I left a voicemail for the PPA, who is to cabbies the Queen of Wonderland.