When I mention people in this blog, weird things can happen to them. Not much more than a week ago, Ray Davies's song "Father Christmas" served as the holiday theme here. In the song, the narrator tells of being mugged by a gang of poor kids when he played Santa outside a department store. Life imitates art, of course, and from Blargblog comes word that the legendary singer-songwriter was shot in the leg by a mugger in the French Quarter of New Orleans on Sunday night. (As Blarg put it, "You really shot me.")

The former Kink was foolishly chasing the robber after the assailant grabbed the purse of a woman who was with Davies in the Quarter. The wound apparently is not too serious, and Ray is reportedly all right.

The Quarter can be creepy this time of year. My wife and I were down there just after New Year's about a decade ago. The crowd for the Sugar Bowl (which was in progress when the Davies robbery occurred) had just left town, and the Quarter was cold, surprisingly deserted, and downright scary. The shopkeeps and bartenders all warned us to be very, very careful on those streets. Several thugs got right in my face -- me, the eminently muggable, middle-aged white guy tourist -- looking for trouble. I was intimidated. Don't make eye contact, keep moving, try to find a lit and populated area.

Ah well, I'm sure that Davies, who sometimes tours as "the Storyteller," will apply his brilliant, acerbic wit and musical cleverness to this event; no doubt he'll turn out some solid entertainment as a result. Thank heaven he wasn't killed.