Most of my admiration of Kannapolis native George Clinton has been from afar, watching the awesome funk spectacle of his live show with the P-Funk All-Stars. But there have been two occasions when I was able to witness the great man's eccentricities at close range.

The first was about 15 years ago at Greensboro's War Memorial Auditorium. I was standing by the backstage door when Clinton walked by in one of the nuttiest ensembles I've ever seen: white leather lace-up boxer's boots, sweat pants, flowered Hawaiian shirt and impenetrably dark shades, topped off with a cotton-candy assortment of dyed hair (pink, blue and purple). He practically left a vapor trail in his wake.

The second was a few years later at Cat's Cradle, during Mammoth Records' 10-year-anniversary show. During Joe Henry's set, I suddenly became aware of a large quantity of balloons right behind me. So I turned around and there was new Mammoth signee Clinton -- wearing pajamas and a big smile while clutching a handful of balloons. Clinton hadn't come to perform, just to add his own inimitable brother-from-another-planet vibe to the proceedings.

Sadly, Mammoth ceased to exist before Clinton could make a record for the label. But Clinton is still at it, keeping his garish and wonderful show on the road even though he's got nothing to prove by now. As he told me the one and only time I interviewed him (another profoundly odd experience), "People got to understand, the funk is its own reward. It's a rehabilitation process for all of us to go through. And it will heal you."

That's a rehab process even Amy Winehouse might say "yes" to, and it's at Raleigh's Lincoln Theatre Saturday night. The show is a benefit for SAFEchild NC, organized by the fine folks at Band Together.

Heather's new gig

A while back, PL was reading Life, etc., our second favorite section of our favorite paper, and in the TV Q&A someone wondered about the other '80s Heather -- Heather Thomas (as opposed to Locklear) -- and what she was up to now. The answer was: married with children. But we've got a better answer: first-time novelist. That's right, we have a copy of Thomas' novel "Trophies" on our desk as we write.

How is it? Let's just call it a beach book, and a sometimes raunchy one, at that. The plot: the top Hollywood trophy wife falls from grace, and with the help of other Trophy friends must climb back to the top.

As a public service, we offer an excerpt. This scene from the prologue introduces Marion Zane (the top Trophy) as she visits the Barneys New York store in Beverly Hills:

To avoid further temptation, Marion stared at the floor. White dot at two o'clock. She wasn't the only one who saw the small white pill lying on the floor of the shoe department. Craig-the-stylist saw it too.

"And what have we here?" he said, snatching it up and holding it pincered, for all to see. "Look, Marion, someone dropped a pill!"

Marion immediately noticed the cacophony of lusty foraging begin to die down.

Craig plopped down beside her, scrutinizing the tiny tablet, like a jeweler. "Think it's a Benzo?"

Around the, various purses were discreetly unsnapped and unzipped.

"Or maybe an Adrerol?"

Pockets were patted, glasses cases looked into; one woman quietly unfolded a tissue from her pocket.

"Oooh. It might be an Oxy!"

Several necks craned. Some women stared directly.

Weary of the amateur PDR talk, Marion leaned over and took a look. "It's melatonin, Craig."

Craig frowned and tossed the pill back in the bullpen, where it remained unclaimed. Shopping and socializing resumed. He remained squished in beside her.

"Yeah, but did you check out the panic? Talk about a suspended moment in time. Frozen Trophy Wives, as far as the eye could see. Just look at 'em, Marion! The most pampered poodles on Earth and wealthy beyond a care in the world. Why the [expletive] do any of you need to medicate?"

Marion was used to the prejudice. It went with the territory. She also knew Craig was trying to embarrass her because he was still [angry] that she'd dumped him for that genius girl Anna Wintour had recommended to her. She didn't give a rat's [expletive]. The pill wasn't hers and Craig wasn't that witty.

We see a Lifetime movie starring Tori Spelling.

Mothers to the stars

And speaking of books, PL just had to share a bit of "Mother Nurture" a book that gives "life lessons from the mothers of America's best and brightest." Although we are hurt that we and our mothers aren't included, we'll put that aside. It's about Mother's Day, after all.

So a few words of advice from:

Dot Jeter, mom of NY Yankees shortstop Derek Jeter:

"Listen to them (your children). Get them things that you know are going to encourage their dreams."

Roberta Shields, mom of rapper/actor Ludacris:

"I would encourage, understand, and then tell him to take risks."

Marge Brinkley, mom of model Christie Brinkley:

"I believe that play is a form of creativity, and as such, it should not be heavily structured."

Lynn Harless, mom of singer Justin Timberlake:

"You know everybody thought Einstein was a quack. I always told Justin that different is good."