What a Hat.

And what a hat it was. Steve Martin was wearing a fashionable fedora as he perused your pal's Lincolnian wares today at the big 43rd California Antiquarian Book Fair. He didn't buy anything, so that is the end of the Steve Martin part of the story.

Except that Steve Martin just missed Bill O'Reilly, who kinda sorta told your good buddy Foz to get lost. Bill O'Reilly isn't as mean in real life as he seems to be on TV, but he is a bog-ole grouch. I didn't even ask him for an autograph. I REALLY didn't ask him for an autograph.

In better news, non celebs bought some stuff, so Foz is paying his way to L.A.

Last night your hero had a supper of yummy arugula and magnificently buttery buttered scallops at a steakhouse in the Death Star (see yesterday's post). Other diners were Hollywood X-Listers Brooke, Charlie, Tuc, Sergio, Wendy and Jeff.

Finally, her name is Kristen, I think. Last night after eating scallops I stopped at the super-expensive fancy-pants hotel bar for a night cap (Foz drinks Manhattans, ladies). There was a fetching book girl there. I smiled and said hi. She looked through me with a boozy gaze, and turned back to frat boy, and started telling him about her job photographing expensive books. He said that he only read Kindles, but was about to take a year off and travel the globe. She said she liked Sweden. He repeated his devotion to Kindle, and bragged that he was about to take a year off and travel the globe. I didn't push it. If Kristen can't see my awesome suite through her boozy goggles, then she deserves overweight. blue-sweater wearing frat guys.

Today I strolled by Kristen's booth to show off my new suit. I don't think she recognized me. I didn't push it. Maybe I'll stroll by tomorrow? Who knows?

Happy Valentine's Day!

Till tomorrow, sayonara, cuties.