Following a visit to the urologist and a routine phlebotomy (unrelated), I dreamt I was diagnosed with prostate cancer.
Variety columnist Army Archerd, hearing of my affliction, offered to donate his Ford F-100 pickup truck to me. His wish was that I study electrical engineering at UCLA but I knew that wasn't what I wanted.
To avoid talking about the subject, during a tour of his mansion, I walked briskly ahead of the group, hurrying to slide down the numerous mahogany-banistered slides that connected floors.
