I follow exactly one comedy writer on Twitter. And tonight he linked to this essay written, he said, by a friend of his. That guy worked on the Letterman show, and he’s dishing the anecdotes. There’s a lot of fun in these stories:

Bill Clinton was hanging out near my wife, which is something no husband wants. My wife also worked at the show, and the former president was backstage watching the Top 10 List while awaiting his guest segment. I had a joke in the Top 10 that mentioned Chewbacca. The joke got a pretty big laugh backstage, but Clinton seemed confused. He turned and with a quizzical look asked, “Who’s Chewbacca?”

First off, I have to admit that having written something that prompted Bill Clinton to say the word Chewbacca stands as the proudest achievement of my life. (I’m the father of two.) My next goal is getting Pope Francis to say “Wu-Tang Clan.” But the more I thought about it, the madder I got. Yes, Bill Clinton’s a world leader with lots of important things on his mind. We get it. But when Star Wars came out in 1977, Clinton wasn’t the president. He was a regular guy. Heck, his nickname was “Bubba.” A guy named “Bubba” can’t pretend he’s too important to know who Chewbacca is. And also, isn’t Clinton always claiming to be a New York Times crossword-puzzle expert? Chewbacca is exactly the kind of random reference any decent crossword-puzzler would be aware of.

I really hoped there would be a YouTube video of Clinton and Chewie together. Get on that, Internet.

Here at home, Tom Cosby is busy finding a silver lining in the things that are going on at UAB with the athletic department. I haven’t said a whole lot about the UAB story, but I like Cosby’s point of view:

But despite these disappointing aspects, here’s the good thing, no the GREAT thing, that’s come out of all this. This brouhaha has accelerated a rekindling of Birmingham’s civic pride along with a fierce embrace of UAB. Our civic pride was already surging before this debacle but its now quadrupled since December 2 and you see it growing every day.

When has this city ever united like this behind UAB? For that matter, when have you ever seen this level of civic passion in anything? And unlike earlier generations of Birminghamians who years ago let out of state corporations call the shots here, these citizens are letting the UA Trustees know their outrage. And they are making it clear that they believe killing football has the real potential to damage both UAB and our city’s future.

Take all the victories you can.

Time for the weekly update of the work in the cafeteria. They are expanding the center of the space, which has clogged the flow around the main food-substitute procurement area and jammed up the dining area. They say they have the same amount of tables, but they are all in less space because this first phase of the renovation required the building of a dust wall. One must keep the dust out of the food.

They’ve put fiberglass windows in the dust walls, so you can check out the work. This is what I saw at lunch today:

The larger portion of the work has been up in the ceiling and, thus, out of view from this position. I look in every day and the equipment is moving around. The guys working there seem to spend more time doing stuff than standing around watching one guy do stuff. They say they’ll be done with their work by the first part of the summer. I suppose it all depends what they find as they poke around in the ceiling.

Ancient chicken wings from lunches gone by, no doubt.

I had contemporary chicken for dinner tonight, visiting the Chick-fil-A that I visit too much. Even the guys in the back know my name now.

Also swam and ran today. Got in about 2,200 yards in the pool and then two miles of running. It always feels weird to say after the fact, but I got to the end of that second mile and my body and my energy levels agreed: we’ve done enough.

It was that feeling you can’t really describe, or maybe even remember clearly later. The one beyond rubbery fatigue, but down around emptiness. The one where another step was foolish because you were no longer running along on the ground, but rather about 18 inches below it.

Now, having had dinner and sitting in a chair, the inability to run another mile or so doesn’t seem so bad. It is a kindness that the mind sometimes gives us, being able to forget about some of the painful things.

I wonder, if they find something curious in the ceiling, if it is remembered by whoever put it there years ago.