I’m taking a bit of a chance on the timing of this column. As I am writing this, the National Hockey League owners and the ice hockey players continue to be at an impasse and the season hasn’t started yet. If they settle before publication today, then what I am writing is as relevant as yesterday’s barometric pressure.

But that’s the excitement that I thrive upon as a freewheeling, gonzo community columnist ... cutting-edge topics (like last week’s cream-filled snack icon exposé) and demanding editors with crushing deadlines (“Man up, Penkava! Accept it: Twinkies are gone! Now stop whining and get me that column, pronto!”)

Then there are the copy editors who mercilessly change my column headlines. Just for your reference, the headline I submitted this week was, “When hockey players became hooky players.” I think it’s pretty cool. But check out what they changed it to ... see what I mean? (Sudden thought: They didn’t change it, right? Or did they? Or didn’t they? Urg! Man, those copy editors really know how to mess with your mind!) Geesh.