Think you've seen everything? Ever seen a man wearing nothing but Christmas lights? Sandy and Greg Pabst did. So did their sons, Chris and Nick. So did Greg's dad, Dick Pabst. It happened in Fells Point -- where else? -- Saturday night, about 10:15. The Pabst folk had just dined at the Sip & Bite and were driving home when they spotted the guy walking along Fleet Street. Lights were wrapped around his legs, his stomach, his chest and neck. "The only thing we couldn't figure out was where the batteries were," Greg says. "And we really weren't looking to find out."
More amazing stuff
If you haven't taken the kids to either the Glen Avenue or Wise Avenue fire stations to see the Christmas gardens with all the trains, you deserve nothing but braunschweiger from Santa. . . . How a Sunday-schooler listed those attending the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem: "The three wise men, the shepherds, Mary, Joseph and Round John Virgin." . . . If you go to 34th Street, Hampden, this Christmas to see the amazing lights, make sure you check out the giant pink flamingos and palm trees in the middle of the block. . . . From the renewal notice Eleanor Coker of Cockeysville received from AutoWeek magazine: "Your expiration date is the month in which you expire." . . . Seen on Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard at Pratt, Sunday night about 5:30: Panhandler holding a sign, "Homeless Will Work For Food," while sitting in a wheelchair.
Up from ignorance
Things I'd like to know:
If the new Stephen L. Miles jingle will be available on compact disc.
Whatever happened to the Leon of Leon's Pig Pen.
What we should do with the dozens upon dozens of portraits of William Donald Schaefer that adorn state offices from Ocean City to Oakland.
If a certain female traffic reporter on local FM radio uses two different names on two different stations.
If anyone has ever purchased a Salad Shooter for personal use.
If anyone has ever purchased a Salad Shooter for personal protection.
Don't tell the elves
If you want to know the truth, I don't have time to sit around looking for evil messages in things. I leave that to weirdos. I know people who specialize in finding the devil's work in pop culture. Their research never ends. They have keen senses for the subliminal. I have neither the senses nor the inclination. Still, not even a blockhead could miss a misprint (with suggestive overtones) in a recent advertisement for a store in the Pikesville Shopping Center. The store was selling a "Yuletide Enchantment" musical carousel with standard Christmas figurines. Here's how it was described in a print ad: "Enesco Musical Society collectible carousel plays 'Silver Bells' as meticulously crafted Satan waves. . . ." Satan. Santa. Gives ya chills, don't it?
The money gizmo
Until last week, when The Sun published a story about her, local inventor Beth Grist was doing modestly well with sales of her novelty gift, the Bilz Box. It's that clear plastic gizmo, about the size of a videocassette, containing a drawer into which paper money, a check or a gift certificate can be placed. To open the drawer and retrieve the money, you have to navigate a tiny steel ball through a maze. Since the Sun's story reached the national news wires, the 33-year-old Grist has been getting dozens of calls from people who just have to have a Bilz Box. The calls have come from throughout the country -- Michigan, Texas, Florida, Colorado, Tennessee, New York, California and Pennsylvania. Grist and helpers are working like crazy in her Perry Hall home, testing each game, wrapping them and shipping them. This could be more popular than the Salad Shooter.
Fantasies for sale
Fans of the J. Peterman Co.'s pricey, illustrated catalog appreciate the artful descriptions of clothes and accessories even if they never purchase an item. As my friend, Lulu Tipton, says: "I like to read the J. P. But it's way too expensive for clothes you can't really see, like $250 for a cashmere-and-silk blend turtleneck. Give me a break." Still, the prose makes the catalog good bathroom reading. I like the pitch for the John Garfield silk shirt ("He died neither alone nor unappreciated"), the long-billed Hemingway fishing cap, the long corduroy dress just like the one some lass named Margaret supposedly wore when she was romancing some rebel during some rebellion in Ireland. J. Peterman sells fantasies with its clothes. The best lines in the writing are subtle. Here's a description of a black charmeuse gown: "[It's for] the kind of woman for whom you embezzle. Or commit perjury. Or move to Biloxi." As fans of the late Frank Loesser know, that line about Biloxi is a clever reference from the title song of "Guys and Dolls." Nice touch. Even if the gown is overpriced. Into the recycling bin with you!
Lunch with Ingmar
I took Ingmar Burger, This Just In's Remington correspondent, to Donna's Restaurant in Towson the other day for our annual lunch (and a fine one at that). On our way there, we passed three other Donna's Restaurants. Ingmar says, "She should sell them nationwide and call them McDonna's." . . . Also, Ingmar reports seeing this sign hanging in Sam's Bagels, Charles Village: "Mandatory Meeting 12/11/94. No Show, No Job. Try Me."