Monk On the Way

My Tony Shalhoub pic is on the way -- autographed just for me.

I don't have single autograph. Not one autographed baseball, concert ticket, t-shirt or breast. I'm not an autograph kind of gal. Never asked for one. I firmly believe that people are basically all noteworthy and all not worthy. This makes me a fan of very few and allows me to speak comfortably and naturally with just about anyone regardless of their celebrity or lack of it. That's my press training. But it's Tony! He is one of the few.

My Hollywood friend is a friend of Mary Goldberg, who manages Tony. No, she is not (thank you for setting me straight, Lee) related to Lee Goldberg, Linda Woods, Karen Dinino, and Tod Goldberg . I love people like this friend who say and do nice things for no other reason than the joy of performing random acts of kindness.

WARNING: STOP READING RIGHT NOW IF CHEESEY SENTIMENT NAUSEATES YOU

Ya see, I don't care for Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, birthdays or even the uber commercial Christmas holidays. They make me blue. I hate it when people feel obligated to buy things for others but I reluctantly participate seemingly to the very edge of bankruptcy because I can't bear the thought of a child somewhere (maybe of a dually employed single parent) without a gift under the tree.

But I love giving random gifts throughout the year on non holidays, especially as thank-you gifts and to people I barely know. Why? To give them a hint of the way I feel at this very moment, that there are people with heart in unexpected places and the world is not such a dark and hopeless place after all.

My friend said Mary Goldberg asked if I wanted my Tony pic written to Mary, MaryAn, MaryAnita, or some term of endearment. I would have opted for Poopsy, Love Muffin, or Hot Junk in the Trunk, but then how could I prove it was signed for me?