Andrew J. Lederer

at a comic book convention my artist friend invited me to and was greeted with the smell of sweat and hygienic inattentiveness, so i knew i was in the right place. (location was the hotel pennsylvania, famous from glen miller's "pennsylvania 6-5000", and, clearly, its elegance was still intact.)

such comicons feature all manner of minor celebs, so i excitedly met larry storch, who played agarn on "f-troop" and was a nightclub comic as far back as the '40s. he was terrific in "the aristocrats" and is a wonderful mimic who's supplied many cartoon voices over the years. (i'm particularly fond of the obscure warner bros. character, "cool cat".)

and -- speaking of mimics -- i also met "mally" lewis, daughter of the late puppeteer shari lewis, who has inherited the family sock, said sock decked out as that cute little bit of mutton-in-waiting, "lamb chop".

i wanted to know about something her mother did called "honey halfwitch", an obscure theatrical cartoon series (i see a theme developing), but she knew nothing about it, so i ended up having to tell her what it was.

and -- speaking of celebrity offspring -- i also met gary lewis (sans playboys), no relation to shari/mally but son of jerry lewis and famous for '60s pop hits like "this diamond ring". my friend showed him an album his grandfather -- jerry lewis' father -- recorded and he knew as much about it as mally lewis knew about her mother's cartoon series.

don't members of showbiz families talk to each other?

then again, i didn't know until recently that my father's childhood doctor was his great-uncle, so who am i to talk?

i was telling miss ives about a high school friend whose father was a venerable coney business owner.

said friend was a girl on whom i'd had a long-term crush and the irony of my telling ives about her was much in my consciousness.

y'see, i'd prized valerie (the crush) above people who really were interested in me.

in fact, once, when a girl i met at mcsorley's -- a sure thing in rob reiner parlance -- hooked up with me in california. i blew her off 'cause the crush showed unexpectedly.

i spent the rest of the night having ice thrown on my ardor while my sure thing did her thing elsewhere.

so, now, miss ives -- like the crush -- is a compelling package who has never seemed interested, hanging with me only when we run into each other and no one better's around.

on saturday, we again connected randomly; her friends hadn't shown, so we embarked on adventures together.

i had other invitations.

but i clung to her like a barnacle.