Surprising how many "foreign" chips ended up at the Gulf Coast - I guess our beloved little clay and plastic discs criss-cross the country every now and then. I see you turned up a Pavarotti chip. My mother had a crush on Pavarotti late in her life. She had regularly attended the New York Opera and on at least one glorious occasion, she met The Man after a show and he gave her a big bear hug of appreciation. After that, she kept a photograph of him beside her bed in her apartment and later, in her hospice home. Asked who he was by one of the nurses, she replied, "My son." I guess she got an extra spoonful of noodles in her soup after that. When I came to visit her on Christmas, the nurse asked if Pavarotti was really my brother. What could I say? "Atsa right, he's-a my big brodduh wit' the loud mouth." I got some extra noodles that night, too.