There is no official group name for a gathering of Felbers. My people have often tried. We’ve tried to go with “herd,” “flock,” even “hive.” “A corporation of Felbers” sounded too cold. “A murder of Felbers” was popular briefly due to our famous persistence and how cool it sounded, but it proved, during the last century, to give certain people a few too many ideas. “An exhalation of Felbers” seemed nice, but it was eventually deemed too appropriate, for the same reasons that we rejected “a drunken pile of Felbers.”

So we’re still working on it.

Nevertheless, we do gather. And this was in evidence last weekend, when noted author Edith Layton Felber, on the occasion of her birthday, came to Chicago to meet Jeanne and myself for a taping of “Wait Wait,” a barbecue, and - naturally - more than a few drinks.

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[East meets west in Chicago summit. The birthday girl and her creepy stalker.]

The show itself went pretty well, though Roxanne Roberts cruelly chose to disgrace me in the Lightning Round in front of my own mother. Shame, Roxanne, shame.

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[Me, Roxanne, and P.J. O’Rourke enjoying a candid, unposed moment.]

Peter eventually led the audience in a chorus of “Happy Birthday” for Ms. Layton. If you’ve never had an auditorium full of NPR fans singing at you, well… they are as liberal with their choice of keys as they are with their politics. Myself included.


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[PJ, Roxanne, Carl, some Felbers, and Marianne Foster (Carl’s wife!). There really
WAS an audience there at one point…]

The party then moved to a local restaurant, where PJ unveiled his latest invention, the “scotch helmet” (not shown). There was birthday cake, and a fair amount uselessly begging Amanda Gibson not to leave us.

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[Amanda Gibson (*sniff*), Mike Danforth, and Emily Ecton showing why America is still
#1 from a dental perspective; Peter is not nearly as drunk as he looks, while
Jeanne is much much drunker.]

Eventually, Peter finally got his long-awaited photo op with my mom’s brand new book, which is hitting store shelves… right about now.


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[Sagal says: “Edith Layton’s latest novel is remarkably gentle on my face and
makes my skin feel great!”]

All in all, our all-star birthday extravaganza for the woman who calls herself “Old Mother Felber” was a smashing success. As for the city of Chicago… um… I’m told that it’s still standing and is willing to welcome us Felbers back “at some point over the next decade (but please check with us first).” As far as we’re concerned, those are pretty good terms.