Here are some good things that happened this weekend.

It all started on Friday afternoon when I met Natalie and her husband, Billy Joe, for coffee and to discuss the possibility of me redesigning their web site. Natalie is an amazing, amazing, amazing singer who has built quite a following around town and has won many awards; she was in Rob’s last show, Too Much Information. Billy Joe is a performer and creative consultant and also manages Natalie’s career.

We had a great conversation that lasted for hours, and the best part was when Natalie asked me for the address of this web log. Really, the best part would have been the series of events that led to that inquiry. That is, Rob mentioned it to her months ago, so he must have thought it was something worthwhile. Then Natalie remembered it and thought to ask, so she must have thought it was something worthwhile. Then, later that night, she sent me an email to let me know how much she enjoyed reading the current entries and the archives. She gushed on to such a degree that it made me feel as if I am doing something worthwhile, something of which I am not often reminded. Thanks, Rob and Natalie and Billy Joe.

Saturday night, I was early meeting Faustus at the movies, so I leaned on a pillar and read my Macworld magazine (I never leave home without it). As I perused, a homeless man quietly approached, and when he cleared his throat to attract my attention, I faced a startling vision with a rain hat and a long, gray beard. “Hello,” he said, “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I just wanted to let you know that your hair looks nice tonight, and your face looks so young.”

I was instantly hooked, wondering all through his “give me money” monologue what such a brilliant man with such good taste was doing on the streets. I gave him two dollars as a reward for his honesty and considered paying him to follow me around full-time, lavishing me with sincere compliments at every turn and serenading me with ballads outside my window at night.

Sunday night, Faustus and I attempted to attend the midnight showing of Broadway Bares, a charity event at which many attractive Broadway stars do striptease numbers. This is precisely the sort of affair that would launch me to apoplectic heights of jealousy if Rob were to attend it without me, but luckily Rob is a much more reasonable person than I am, as he frequently reminds me. In any event, the line was so long (stretching literally all the way around the block), and they were running so far behind schedule, that we decided not to go in after all. Instead, funsters that we are, we gave our tickets away and went home.

As I walked from the train station, I could not help but listen for the soft shuffle of feet in my wake and, occasionally, a whispered reassurance: “Your hair really held up, even in this humidity.”