Hi ho silver

Two dudes stole two grand in an armed robbery at the Silver Dollar Hotel at Fourth and Pine in Reading.No word on whether all the loot was in silver dollars.If the cops capture the culprits, you could say they coined another silver lining in the city’s crackdown on crime.

Taking the measure of Super Bowl Media Day

We all are fortified by the true order of the universe.Which is why there are certain high holy days on the calendar.Like the annual Tuesday Super Bowl Media Day, where the bold, the beautiful and the brash ask a torrent of silly questions that somehow merit conversation.There is a certain audacity to Media Day that spawns a tide so strong it sucks in legions of folks who wouldn’t know a zone blitz from a granola bar.No matter. It’s all about entertainment and watching Super Bowl players put on display like animals at the zoo. It’s all in good fun, a lighthearted prelude to the serious business of crowning yet another world champion this Sunday.Indeed, the tension was as sharp as a dull razor yesterday when a TV reporter from Mexico City, dressed in a truncated white wedding dress, veil and red pumps, unabashedly asked Patriots quarterback hunk Tom Brady to marry her.”I have a few Mrs. Bradys in my life,” quipped Brady, whose girlfriend is supermodel Gisele Bundchen.

Riding shotgun in Reading

While I am notoriously geographically impaired, I do know that Reading is located on the East Coast.But Reading really should be in the Old Wild West. Case in point: An ice cream deliveryman was robbed at gunpoint Monday, the seventh delivery truck driver robbed in the city since late December.Sound like Dodge City or Tombstone to you?If I owned a delivery truck that was making the rounds through the mean streets of Reading, I would have an armed guard riding shotgun next to the driver. Just like they did on stagecoaches. There may not be any Apaches in our town, but there sure are plenty of bad guys in black hats.

The toast at their wedding must have been a real humdinger

Some relationships bleed you pale even when they’re over.It can be enough to drive you to drink.The other night in Vermont a lady got in an accident and wound up getting processed for DUI and drug possession.She called her ex-husband to pick her up.Now there are some former spouses, rife with hard feelings, who would have immediately conjured up some belly laughs and promptly hung up.But this guy apparently allowed sentiment to intrude upon his better judgment. Then again, his judgment was impaired. He rolled his car on the way to the station and got arrested for drunk driving and driving with a suspended license.With Valentine’s Day approaching, do you think this thirsty couple has any shot at reconciling?

A measured courtroom defense

When their butts are on the courtroom hot seat, some desperate defendants have no restrictor plates on what they may say to get off.For instance, a serial sex offender in England told the jury he couldn’t be a flasher because his genitals were too small. Claiming he was too embarrassed about the size of his manhood to expose himself to women, he even showed the jury — without a hint of humiliation — photos as proof.Apparently the jury sized up his privates as a tad bigger than thumbnails because the guy was convicted and sentenced to 20 months.This British courtroom melodrama rekindles the embers of one of the towering judicial moments in Berks County Court history.The legendary Cal Lieberman — a mass of energy, charm, space and enlightenment as a lawyer and later a judge — once, with reptilian coldness, persuaded a jury that his client couldn’t be guilty of prostitution because she was too coyote ugly for any man to want to pay her for sex. ”I had to hold her down when he told the jury that; she wanted to kill him,” said Russ LaMarca, who was co-defense counsel on the case.I guess her sense of vanity trumped her sense of freedom.

BCP is no place for a Playboy model

Heather Hull is back on the job as a Berks County Prison correctional officer, substantially improving the decor and spiking the spirits of the inmates.Hull was reinstated after going to arbitration. She had been fired for appearing in Playboy magazine.I wonder why someone as photogenic as Heather wants to be a prison guard. If she’s into handcuffs, she can always be a security guard at the Playboy Mansion.After all, somebody has to watch over Hugh Hefner’s pajama drawer, the place where he hides his Viagra.

Heath Ledger the latest shooting star to disintegrate

As life has taught us, Hollywood celebrities sometimes aren’t great for the long haul.Perhaps it’s the evocative highs and cavernous lows of a life rooted in the loose gravel of superficiality, but it seems as if some of them know their days may be numbered. So they play as if awoken from a dream too soon.Does Britney Spears come to anybody’s mind at this juncture? Whenever satellite trucks and the paparazzi jockey for curb space in front of her home after her latest meltdown, we all are graphically reminded of the brittle vulnerability inherent in some stars. Stars who are shining on the outside while the darkness inside clamors for electroshock therapy.Then there was Heath Ledger. The Grim Reaper got the movie star in an enervating embrace yesterday. At 28, the leading man with good looks hijacked from a young girl’s dream was young enough to be still growing into his features. Now he’s gone, found dead in Manhattan with sleeping pills nearby. Police said the death was caused by a possible drug overdose and appeared to be accidental.An autopsy today was inconclusive, and more tests are needed, the medical examiner’s office said. Some tabloids are reporting that Ledger had been battling substance abuse problems — including an addiction to heroin — for some time. Still, he didn’t fit the standard Hollywood mold. He apparently never bought into the Hollywood hype. Then again, people outside Hollywood have their share of demons. It would take an army to plumb the dark drives we all share.Of course, it could be possible Ledger worked himself to death instead of partying himself to death. I guess we won’t truly know until the results of more medical tests come out. Ledger was known for grueling, intense roles. And his personal strife evidently rode in tandem with professional anxiety.He admitted to the New York Times last fall that he “stressed out a little too much” and “last week I probably slept an average of two hours a night. I couldn’t stop thinking. My body was exhausted, and my mind was still going.” He said he took two Ambien pills, which only worked for an hour.Whatever killed Heath Ledger worked for eternity.