(Girl, and gratitude, interrupted)

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This week, let me tell you about some of the things I’m thankful for. Once that’s out of the way, I can get back to the mall for some more coveting.

At first, for this week’s column, I’d planned to comment on an odd event I read about at Boston’s Logan airport. No, a flight did not take off on time. It was nothing that odd.

This event was much more pedestrian. Last week, according to several giggle-interrupted police reports, a nondescript man sauntered for a bit along the corridors of Logan, then slipped into one of the women’s restrooms and stripped naked.

You know, as one would be tempted to do, during November in balmy Boston.

But that was just the appetizer in this aberrant buffet. After getting pale and natural, the man and his de-girded loins clambered up into the crawl space above the bathroom’s suspended ceiling, as if he was late for a buff rendezvous with Bruce Willis at the Nakatomi Plaza.

For his next feat, he fell through the ceiling and landed near a woman, something the woman was probably not expecting, even in Boston.

(To be fair to the lady: there was really no chance of her catching the guy, since hers was a short flight and she’d checked her fielder’s mitt with the luggage. But she was still caught off-guard by the indecent dude’s imitation of an infield fly.)

At this point, one might assume that the gentleman had fulfilled his quest, had successfully acquired a new bullet point for his résumé, and could now head home to sleep the sleep of the just. The rational reader might rightly suppose that, for Bobby Buck-Naked, this day was a fait accompli.

Oh, no. Naked Batman was just getting started.

After dropping in on the ladies’ loo, His Starkness charged out into the concourse, ran naked past one or more Starbucks, and bit an 84-year-old man on the ear.

As one might.

Ultimately, the future Congressman was arrested and charged with several crimes:

• Mayhem
• Attempted murder
• Carrying an extremely unconcealed weapon
• Causing a woman from West Groton to involuntarily wee-wee
• Battery on a person over 80 (as opposed to battery on a person under the speed limit)
• Malicious destruction of those bedpan-shaped wall caddies in public bathroom stalls that dispense little toilet-seat paper cutouts
• Intentional nakedness while not being a Kardashian

So that’s what I was going to write about for this week’s column. But I didn’t, because it’s Thanksgiving and I changed m…oh, wait.

Um…never mind all that. Here’s a list of things I’m thankful for:

• I have no outstanding warrants.
• My friends don’t ride me for mangling prepositions in phrases like “things I’m thankful for.”
• I have my health. I used to have someone else’s, but they made me give it back.
• Ultimately, he’ll go away. Geraldo Rivera can’t live forever.
• I’ve never been accused of any crimes that involve lumberjack tools and a hockey mask.
• When people hear my name, they don’t immediately think, “Isn’t that the dirtbag who destroyed the housing market?”
• No record company ever considered releasing an album titled “Burl Ives Does Aerosmith.”
• I live in a town where the high-rise district is almost never destroyed by giant fire-breathing scaly mutants.
• I don’t live in a town where goats can co-sign a marriage license. Yet.
• When people see my face, they don’t immediately think, “Hey! A mob boss is offering ten grand for that guy’s head.”
• I have no desire to leap naked from the ceilings in major airports and attack octogenarian frequent fliers.
• Countries run by bad guys don’t really grasp the fact that Joe Biden is next in line.
• I’ve never had to smell anything as reportedly nasty as the post-Katrina Superdome.
• When people hear my name, they don’t immediately think, “My, he looked hot on Dancing with the Stars.”
• The most stupid question ever blurted in human history was uttered during my lifetime, and I was there to witness it when it happened. The question was this: “How much is your free membership?”
• I don’t have the heartbreak of psoriasis, I don’t suffer from an overactive bladder that insists on sitting next to me on the bus, and my emu-based aches & pains ointment doesn’t stink.
• When people see my face, they don’t immediately think, “I think I’ll keep him in a cave in my basement and lower food to him in a bucket.”
• Thanks to the US Congress, there is an acceptable amount of rodent hair in peanut butter. Personally, I think the acceptable amount should be zero or, if possible, less. But I’m glad to hear there’s a cap.
• When people hear my name, they don’t immediately think, “Well, sure, Michael Vick was a sick dude, but at least he’s not this guy.”
• Neither my career nor my personal safety depend on my ability to fold a fitted sheet.
• When people see my face, they don’t immediately think, “Let’s rob him.”
• I wasn’t born during a time when the most professional of professional criminals are the politicians. Oh, wait.