TAKING THE STAR OUT OF STARBUCKS

Heck - and then you'd have BUCKS COFFEE! Now that would fit Cow Town better than the 6 or 8 Starbucks coffee houses we now have. Bucks Coffee has a ring to it.

I decided to change my life up this morning.

Me: "Want to go have coffee at Starbucks and read the Sunday paper?"

She: "You bet. I love to be in public with you."

Hmm, as compared to what? I should have dressed up like Mr. Clownhead. Bet she wouldn't say that again.

We arrive and sit down outside at the Starbucks you see here. Our two speciality coffee drinks came to $7 and I wonder out loud what the same drinks cost 10 years ago and what they'll cost 10 years from today. Inflation is a curious thing.

The two Sunday papers are stacked separately on the table and we begin to sift through them. I had just sat down when the sprinkler system on the lawn near the truck came on. The sprinkler heads were not functioning correctly as the water began spraying into the back seat of the truck. Our dogs, perched in their car seats, were starting to get wet. Perfect timing, I thought as I left my comfortable Starbucks chair to close the truck windows.

I returned to reading the papers and a great song I had not heard before began playing on the outside music system. I couldn't resist:

Me: "Whaa, whaa, do, do do, chick-e-boom-baaa, whaaa, whaa..." The two spoons on the table fell into my hands. I was Ringo Star playing live at Starbucks.

She: "Did you come to irritate me or did you come to read the Sunday paper?"

Me: "I thought I'd entertain you, too."

She: "I don't need entertaining. I would like peace and quiet. I can't take you anywhere!"

So much for being seen in public.

Me: "Well, back in the day you'd think something like that was pretty funny."

She: "That's not funny anymore. Upteen years of your 'waaa, waaa, boom, doo, doo' stuff has lost its luster."

Lost its luster? Oh well. Maybe if I come up with a bunch of new bebop sounds to make the wife will change her tune . . . or maybe it is time to change mine.

Fat chance. I gotta be me. And I will. Anything less would not be me being Bob.