Tossed salad and scrambled eggs.

I hate what my daughters choose to watch on television. I suppose if I had boys, it would be a lot different. 24 hours a day of sports. Video games. And World's Dumbest Criminals Caught on Tape.

Damn you Y chromosome, damn you.

The latest crap appearing in my living room is the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. With that much silicone, plastic and nouveau riche affectations, it seems to me they ought to remove the word "Real" from the title.

In any case, one of the wives, Camille Grammar, is now the ex-wife of TV star Kelsey Grammar. I only show mild interest in her segments because I had met Kelsey a long time ago.

I was in a studio, located right above the Hollywood Athletic Club, scoring music to one of the first Nissan commercials I had ever written. It was exciting at the time. But then I was young and stupid and fascinated by all the buttons on the recording board.

When we were done the engineer invited me to stick around for a pay per view boxing match. He ordered some pizzas and said his friend, Kelsey Grammar, was coming over to catch the fight. It was a Friday night and even though I wasn't a big boxing fan, how often was I going to get the opportunity to hang out with Kelsey Grammar, a guy who was literally rolling in money from both CHEERS and FRASIER.

I'm sure I pictured him throwing around money like a drunken billionairre. "Hey kid, here's $1,000 bill, hand me a slice of that pepperoni pizza wouldya?"

The truth is, I had one half of the scenario correct.

When Kelsey showed up at the studio, he was four sheets to the wind. He was carrying two six packs of beer and he had a quart of whiskey. Half of which he'd already drank or spilled on his trousers.

We've all had those kind of nights. At least , I have. So I don't want to be too judgmental. But at the time, the letdown was palpable.

I didn't really care about the fight. And now, even less about Kelsey Grammar. So I packed up my briefcase, said my goodbyes and left.

Without the $1,000 bill.