Speaking of Halloween and Greenwich village and mammos, er, I mean mammograms, reminds me of time years ago when I was escorted around NY City by a young and buxom companion (sorry - but I remember the buxom part rather fondly . . . ahem) and she led me off the sidewalk into a little dining establshment where, as soon as I entered the door, Grandpa Munster leaped off a stool and grabbed my hand and welcomed me to his eatery.  It was THE Grandpa Munster in his Munster costume, facepaint and all.  He owned the restaurant and took obvious glee in seeing the reaction from unsuspecting customers who happened in.  Especially a rube from Texas whose mind was preoccupied at the time (did I mention the buxom part?).

DQ