On her great reality show, Kathy Griffin had a very funny bit about her "airport question" -- that question that she's most often asked when she's making her way through a terminal. Ever since her father's death was chronicled on her show, her airport question has been "How's your Mom doing?" Before that it was "What's Brooke Shields really like?!"

When I'm occasionally stopped in an airport, the question is "Do you really like the '80s?" The answer is a qualified yes. I preferred the movies and TV shows of the '70s, but I'm not old enough to remember most of the decade. Just as well, since "I Love the '70s" didn't rate as well on VH1. (For the target demo, the 1970s might as well be medieval European history.)

My secondary airport question is "You're on so many shows! What do you want to do?" Ugh. It's a drag of a question. It's friendly enough, I know, but it's also unanswerable in under three hours. (Let's just say I'm working things out with Dr. Saguaro.)

In the meantime there are three things that I know I want:1. I want to be in a movie with an opening credit that reads, "And Introducing Mo Rocca as Marvin." Marvin is a placeholder. I don't know what the character's name would be and I don't really care what kind of a movie it is, just as long as it's not slasher porn. It can be a small quirky comedy, an epic romance or even a Hong Kong martial arts action film.

I just want an elegant "and introducing" to fade in, with "Mo Rocca" coming in just below in larger font, and "as Dack" (or Mitch or Sun Yat-sen) completing the three-lined credit, as the music soars. Then the whole credit fades away as the opening scene at the crowded bazaar begins -- and the first lines between Livonia and the mysterious spice dealer are spoken. Here's how it would look:




2. I want to sing a part of the Officer Krupke song from West Side Story on a TV variety show. It's a great song in which can you sound charactery but still sing out. The chorus parts are great, so it's not like you're just singing along waiting for your turn to sing solo. However I would insist on having some solo lines that are at least somewhat rangy (song begins at 1:42):




3. I want to be presented with the Key to the City. This is the big one. Remember when the greatest honor was to be commended by a city's mayor, with townspeople assembled, and presented with a Key to the City. What did it open?! When I was a child, someone told me that it opened everything – that it was a master key to every lock in town.

Naturally this raised all sorts of homeland security issues. Suddenly every business and residence in the city would be vulnerable. What if the recipient had an evil streak, or became embittered with the inevitable letdown that comes after receiving the Key to the City? Havoc would ensue as the first few establishments were looted. Fear would tear through the city. Gun sales would soar. Everyone would get pit bulls and tasers. A massive manhunt would be deployed to reclaim the Key to the City -- but the evil honoree would have made copies. And he/she would've done away with the local locksmith so that so no one could get their locks changed!

Of course this was a foolish concern. If you're given the Key to the City, you're of irreproachable character. (Well at least you're not a psychopath.) The Key to the City is the pinnacle honor, bestowed for a great deed performed - the crowning glory of a life lived as decently as possible.

At the ceremony, the Mayor wears a top hat (think Punxsutawney) and reads from a scroll, decreeing that I shall forever be a special citizen, in recognition of [insert great deed here]. I, wearing a sober blue suit with a splash of color for a tie, am seated on a platform in the wooden chair that the city's very first Mayor used. A choir sings as an adorable little girl in a red velvet dress enters bearing a pillow, atop which nestles the golden Key to the City.

Afterwards, the Ladies of this City hold a luncheon to honor me. They are a proud legion - most of them widowed in World War II, many of them wearing hats. I am scrupulously polite, never interrupting, speaking only when spoken to. When Honora Quakenbush, the handsome Chairwoman of the Ladies Luncheon to Honor the Key to the City Recipient, pronounces me an "exemplary citizen," I am touched. She's not someone who gushes, so I know she means it. At the end of the luncheon, the town's last surviving veteran from the Spanish-American War, posture still arrow-straight, poses for a picture with me. What a day!

***

I don't know that my first two goals will ever be realized. But I'm determined to make the third happen. So help me out here:

• What city should I aim for? I'm not delusional. I know it can't be New York, Los Angeles, Chicago or Albuquerque. But as much as I love small towns, I need something that will generate some coverage. What about a medium-sized city like Grand Rapids, MI or St. Paul, MN or Tacoma, WA? My friend Adrian lives in Omaha. I like Omaha and Adrian knows tons of people. Tulsa?
  

• What is the great deed that I perform? Should I build a Senior Center? A barbecue pit for the town? Should I restore a historic flour mill? Should I bequeath free dance classes?

Hurry and give me your suggestions!