Yes, the near-throwdown that erupted in the New York auto show press room last week was as cringe-worthy as it sounds. But it did impart some Old New York Barroom onto the stench of sweaty Brooks Brothers.

No one was in any real danger, except me, and the still-unidentified hothead's 30-day sobriety chip he'd just received from Embarrassing Outburstoholic's Anonymous. The steel chair held aloft by that older, balding Bill Hicks lookalike whizzed past my ear at a great rate of speed (sadly not caught on video, but trust me; by the time the story had been told a few dozen times, that chair had accelerated to upward of 300 feet per second).

We're still trying to figure out which "street" ol' balding journo is referring to. Boulevard of broken dreams, perhaps.