OK folks, first, a couple items on our agenda:

1. There will be no mention of this "Thanksgiving" phenomenon, which does not exist in Caracas. The first person who says the words "Happy" and "Thanksgiving" on this space, I'm purchasing a same-day ticket at holiday rates, flying home, punching you in the eye, and flying right back.
   
   
2. For future reference, please note that it is not a good idea to stock up on deoderant in a country notorious for its lack of personal hygiene...before shipping off to the equator. Christ, I am ripe!

I'm glad we could clear that up.


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So here it is: The story that's been kicking my ass for the last three days.

Basically, the bureau chief went insane on the scope that he wanted this to cover and instead of filing first thing this morning I wound up on the phone till 2pm. Then, he showed me how to compress the whole damn thing into 800 words - I definitely got my money's worth today. Enough interview material hit the cutting room floor to fill a novella.

(The final version, edited by ghost-like entities in far away places, got shaved by another 200 words. So much for "scope." D'oh!)

And, of course, there's the special guest star I talked to yesterday. ...If you're too lazy to read the article, I'll give you an obscure hint: The whole time I was on the phone with our distinguished guest, I couldn't get late-80s Keenen Ivory Wayans' voice out of my head doing that inner-city Dr. Suess commercial, complete with "Horton Hears a Ho." It actually helped me get through the interview without stumbling, sorta like when public speakers picture the audience naked.

Mad props to my Brazilian counterpart in Sao Paolo. If he doesn't send me a random email last thing Friday night, I don't get the opportunity to report this and the subsequent byline - it's that simple. Paulo, your Pandora's Box is in the mail.