He likes me! Dave really likes me!

It's been a rough week for David Letterman. Oh yeah, he had that little kerfuffle with Alaska's Governess, but the media missed his biggest blunder ... he thinks I'm funny.

Well, maybe not Dave himself, but somebody on his staff -- probably an unpaid intern, or a junior associate assistant writer or maybe Alan Kalter. You see, the Late Show runs a weekly Top 10 contest in which it throws out a topic and lets its viewers suggest possible jokes for inclusion in a web-only Top 10. I've been doing this off and on for a couple years, sending in my lead balloons and imagining them falling flat in NYC.

But this week, the magic happened. I finally got noticed.

From the Top Ten Complaints of Jon and Kate's Kids

6. Cameras make potty training a bit awkward
Patrick D, Las Vegas, NV

Number 6! Not bad! Number 6 is one of the key mid-list jokes -- it has to have enough jazz to regain the attention of viewers who thought, "Hey, this might be kind of funny," but have grown bored after the first few jokes. And it has to be sharp enough to convince viewers they should stick with the bit the rest of the way.

Now that I've been discovered, I can only imagine the bounty that awaits -- book deals, standup gigs, my own HBO show? Or perhaps I'll just settle for a Late Show mousepad. Either way, it's good to be discovered.

Isn't it ironic? No, it just sucks

By my conservative estimate, there are perhaps four nights a year when a band I want to see actually comes to play a show here in the greater Las Vegas area. I've been here three and a half years, and here's who I've seen so far:

• The Decemberists at the House of Blues
• The Hold Steady at the Beauty Bar
• Black Rebel Motorcycle Club at Jillian's
• Beck at Vegoose I
  
• Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins at Vegoose II
• The Drams at some cool theater downtown that's now closed

I also missed a Rilo Kiley show at the HoB because I was out of town, and skipped a couple of shows that I might have enjoyed -- Morrissey, Reverend Horton Heat, and a few arena tours by bands like U2 and the Dixie Chicks.

But that's it. Six shows and maybe six more missed opportunities in three and a half years. So naturally, when the Hold Steady makes its triumphant return to Vegas tonight to play again at the Beauty Bar, I've got an ocean of mucus flowing from my cranial orifices.

Alannis Morissette might call it ironic. I just think it sucks.

Dance like no one's watching

That's Nora's philosophy. Actually, she does crave an audience, but has absolutely no qualms about breaking and popping, shucking and jiving, and shaking her booty anywhere, any time, in front of anyone. Some of our fondest memories are of sneaking up to Nora's doorway and peeking into her room while she's dancing, entirely oblivious to our presence. The pure joy in her face and in her movements is one of the highlights of parenting.

So, with that said, check out these videos of Nora's first school dance performance. They've met once a week for two months and came up with these two routines -- High School Musical and some hip-hop number. It was a gas. (She's the kid in the UNLV jersey, for those who haven't met her.)

#1 High School Musical

#2 Some hip-hop thing

A simpler time

My youngest is a devotee of all things Scooby. I swear, if I could find a "What Would Scooby-Doo?" lunch box, she'd bring it to school every day. She went trick-or-treating dressed as Velma two years ago, and is planning on being Daphne this year. She's used "jinkees" in casual conversation. She's into it.

So on any given day you'll find about 35% of our DVR space taken up with Scooby-Doo episodes and movies. Not that I mind all that much. I loved the Mystery, Inc., gang when I was a kid too, so watching the old "Scooby-Doo, Where Are You?" reruns with her is kind of a kick for me. It's fun to relive some of the thrills and chills of my childhood, not to mention having a shared experience with Kid No. 2.

Sometimes, I even get a glimpse of a simpler time and realize how far we've come -- for good or ill -- as a society since the late 60s-early 70s. Today, for example, we were watching an episode described in the DirecTV guide as follows:

"The Harem-Scarum Sanitarium: The gang investigates a haunted mental asylum."

Ah yes ... because as we all know, mental illness is comedic gold, baby! I kept waiting for an appearance by McMurphy, Nurse Ratched, or The Chief, but all we got was this guy:

Oceans of time

I finally watched the original version of "Oceans 11" tonight -- the Rat Pack movie from 1960 that spurred the recent Clooney-Pitt franchise. A friend who loves all things related to old Vegas recommended the DVD to me a couple years ago and I finally got around to watching it.

For those who want a look at a time when there were basically five casinos on the Strip, this is an excellent way to relive Vegas' salad days. The DVD contains a bonus feature with five short vignettes on the history of those casinos -- the Flamingo, Sands, Desert Inn, Riviera and Sahara. And of course there's the classic cool, the undeniable hipness factor of the Rat Pack.

But the highlight to me was getting to watch one of the greatest actors of any generation working in his prime. In every one of his scenes, he dominated the screen, holding your attention with his every word or action, and some of the biggest stars of the day paled in comparison to his greatness.

I'm talking, of course, about Norman Fell.

Yep, that's him in the picture above -- second from the right, glowering at the camera, striking the toughest pose of the group. Sinatra? Martin? Davis? Lawford? A bunch of no-talent hacks compared to Norman Fell.

I only wish that Soderbergh had had the balls to cast Don Knotts in Fell's role in the remake.