Gun-shy

"So what's next?" you think to yourself as you clear your desk and prepare to move on to the next thing. It's a nice day, so you decide to take your work to the patio. You get an extension cord and set up your laptop and spread your papers out and as you're sitting and thinking and writing a black SUV slows to a crawl in the street below your aerie.

It gets your attention because it's almost stopped in front of your garage so you look down into the truck and you see the driver fiddling with his . . . gun? You do a double-take and sure enough, Magnum P.I. or whoever is sitting not 20 feet away from you loading or cocking or just lovingly stroking his gun. Your first thought is not that he doesn't have both hands on the wheel, and you slowly lower your laptop screen and start backing up toward the door. That's when you realize it might be a good idea to jot down the license plate number, because you know when you call the cops, as surely you must since you've got kids and there's a playground across the street and you really do want to discourage gunplay in the neighboorhood, the first thing they're gonna ask you is, "Didja get the license number?"

But this black SUV, the one crawling down your street with the man in the driver's seat concentrating on his gun right in front of your house, doesn't have a license plate, at least not on the rear. When the officer comes to ask you some questions he's surprised by this and asks if perhaps you just didn't see it. You're pretty sure it wasn't there since you leaned over the railing a good two or three times to check because you didn't believe it yourself, but you'd swear there was no plate.

After the officer leaves you settle back into your chair and you're pretty sure that's the end of working outside, at least for today, but you have a strange thought: What was next for that guy?

Please let me know if you plan to play hoops at St. John's tonight. We tip off at 6:30 p.m., as usual. And let's tonight forego the firearm cliches on the court -- no pulling the trigger, no shooting the lights out.

Additional $1.50 fee applies. OK?

Here's a quiz you didn't expect to take today. In which of the following locations will you find an ATM?

1. South Rim, Grand Canyon
2. Buckingham Palace
3. McMurdo Station, Antarctica

In fact, you will find ATMs at all of those locations, and at some 371,000 more. It was 35 years ago this September that Chemical Bank's ad campaign began running in New York: "On Sept. 2, our bank will open at 9:00 and never close again!" Today there's one ATM for every 284 U.S. households. But a curious thing about ATMs: Most large banks lose a lot of money on them, about $250 per machine every month. Banks keep these loss leaders because in surveys an overwhelming number of respondents say ATM access is a key factor in choosing a bank.

This is all documented in a story in the current issue of Fortune, by the way. What the story doesn't mention is that the ATM industry is responsible for two of most widely used Keekleyisms in the English language. A Keekleyism, for those who don't know, is an initialization -- distinct from an acronym, remember -- that often retains some of its component words when used. "ATM [automated teller machine] machine" is one, as in "PIN [personal identification number] number." I always like "ABS brakes." And you now see businesses, after some brand consultant convinces them that their name -- say, Georgia Carpet Outlet --- is too prosaic, going by "GCO Carpet Outlet" or "DSW [Discount Shoe Warehouse] Shoe Warehouse."

Fear not, you won't be receiving entreaties to turn out for "SJH Hoops" any time soon. We tip off at 6:30 p.m. tonight, as usual. Let me know if you will or will not be playing. And please take your receipt.

Last week's attendance: 11

Act now!

The other day I was having one of those tedious but mandatory interactions with a government agency. The pleasant yet listless functionary behind the counter made a point of telling me exactly how many Mondays he had left (49). At first I didn't understand, and then realized he was talking about his impending retirement.

Why do we count down? And isn't counting down, much less sharing your countdown with complete strangers, a sign that something's wrong? That's something's being mis-spent? There are obligations, and then there are sentences -- many self-imposed.

"Only four more days." (Why did I stick around this long?)

"Just three more sessions." (Can't believe I got talked into this.)

"Two days left to save!" (Boy, did we over-buy on this junk.)

"Forty-nine more Mondays." (I can't believe I wasted my best years behind this counter.)

What are you counting down right now? What would happen if you just jumped to zero? Might something improve? Think about it.

Incidentally, only one hour and 40 minutes until we tip off at St. John's. Are you playing tonight? Please let me know --

Attendance last week: 10

Cara: No One More Sensitive About Age

Really? Can it really be true that no one is more sensitive about his or her age than washed-up one-hit wonder Irene Cara, star of 1980's "Flashdance"? That's what her publicist claims in what has to be the least newsworthy story on the entire Internet today, CNN.com's "How Old Is That Celebrity, Really?" [Article since removed from CNN.com but available at ABC.com. -- Ed.]

Among other things, you will learn in the article that:

• Cara (real surname: Escalera) says she was born in 1964. But voter registration records and several media outlets, including The Associated Press, have her birth year as 1959.


• Aging is "a big no-no" in Los Angeles.


• Supermodel Naomi Campbell thinks that "if you worry about [your age] then you end up with trouble."


• The American public "doesn't really forgive people for getting older."

What's our takeaway here? Your sore knee, aching back, wobbly ankles -- forget about them. Just get your saggy muscles to St. John's by 6:30 p.m. for another night of hoops with the other pre-geriatrics. And when the people at work ask you tomorrow why you're walking so funny, you tell 'em: "Too much sex."

Let me know if you will or will not be there tonight, gramps.