Baconizing Craig Ferguson on the Strip

No, "baconizing Craig Ferguson" is not a sexual act. Last week I celebrated my birthday by going to Vegas with a friend to see Craig Ferguson at the deteriorating Tropicana. I have thoughts about that show which I'll share at another time, although I will mention that Ferguson spent quite a bit of his act talking about his rather large penis. Hey, I wouldn't know. I'm just telling you what he talked about, over and over and over, kind of like a floundering Vegas comedian who needs to rely on cheap jokes to get laughs from an audience that's been drinking cheap wine in the casino. I think he took performing "on the strip" just a little too literally with the penis jokes.

Anyway, as my friend and I were walking past some slot machines towards the show room, I was observing how my brain had just gone through several steps over dinner getting from point A to completely unrelated point E, and how magnificant the human mind is when it comes to connecting seemingly dissimilar dots.

At that moment, I invented a new word for our lexicon. BACONIZE. A verb. The act of connecting nonsequiturs, seemingly unrelated thought processes, people, events, ideas, situations or items, through a series of six or less shared connections, as in the six degrees of Kevin Bacon. [Also see Baconization - the act or result of baconizing.]

In describing to my friend how I came up with an idea, I took him through the preceding nonsequiturs that brought my brain to that particular thought, and commented that I had "Baconized" the steps. Most people associate baconization with linking actor names together, but really the method works for just about anything.

So what does this have to do with Craig Ferguson? Well as it turns out, I am connected to him by only two degrees of separation. While at the aforementioned Vegas show, my friend and I sat across from two ladies who work at the same emergency animal hospital where I had taken my dog one evening, and they had saved his life. In conversing with the one lady, I mentioned that I would love to meet Ferguson. She then revealed to me that she took care of his dogs and knew his ex-wife Sascha! I couldn't believe my good luck, until... she told me about Ferguson's much younger girlfriend who wasn't particularly bright. I expressed surprise that CF wouldn't want an intelligent woman such as myself.

The veterinarian responded that CF's ego was so big that he'd be threatened by a smart, funny woman. You could hear the thud as my jaw hit the floor. Needless to say, I saw him with a totally new perspective as I watched his act that evening, straining my neck up and twisted sideways from my front row center table seat. As CF rambled on about his fat porker, all I could think of was...