One of this winter's wackiest stories is this week's news that Dennis Rodman is in North Korea to promote "basketball diplomacy."
So I guess this means the Worm isn't planning to head-butt Kim Jong Un or kick him in the groin or grope any of the royal women, right?
Word is, KJU loved the '90s era Chicago Bulls, so he's thrilled about Worm's appearance. I think it's a great idea. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?
One thing I know for sure is that Rodman doesn't have too many more years that he can impress people just by being Dennis Freakin' Rodman.
I recently appeared at a 5th-grade career day and brought several props with me, including a 1997 international magazine for which I had written a long freelance article on Worm. Rodman was on the cover all decked out as only he could do it: rainbow-dyed hair, earring, mascara, lipstick, a huge cross on his naked chest, tats aplenty. Back then, he was among the most recognizable human beings on the entire planet.
Fast-forward 16 years. Not a single one of the 100 or so fifth-graders I talked to had a clue who Dennis Rodman was.
They do know Michael Jordan, but mostly as a TV pitchman and the owner of the NBA's worst basketball team. What I'm saying is that it won't be many more years until I no longer am able to impress anybody with old newspaper photos showing me and Jordan together.
I'm 52 now, and that isn't always fun. Still, it's somehow a little comforting to know that even uber-celebs such as Rodman (who is 51) and Jordan (50) have expiration dates, too.