Hey, could that be Jim McMahon?

I see people in and around the Miami Beach Convention Center who might be famous, but I can't tell if they are. I also can't tell if the fault is mine for not knowing who they are or if the fault is theirs for acting as if they should be famous when they aren't.

Some folks desperately want to be noticed. Many women dress as if they should be dancing on a stage near a pole. In real life, they would stand out. But so many women dress this way that they no longer stand out.

It's like when guys smoke cigars to assert their individuality, and you see 20 of them puffing in the same room. Wives won't let you smoke at home, right?

If a woman shows up at the Convention Center - where a news conference attracts many genuinely well-known people such as Prince, Gloria Estefan and Billy Joel - in a pants suit, she'd stand out.

The way I see it, if you have an entourage you're probably famous. If you're asked for an autograph, you're probably famous. If you're a woman, and heads turn when you walk past, you're probably famous or are wearing a pants suit.

A guy steps out of a fancy car with tinted windows late Thursday morning and walks into the Convention Center. The guy looks unfriendly and familiar. I know; it's Jim McMahon, the quarterback of the last Chicago Bears team to play in the Super Bowl.

Is it him, is it not him and does it matter? As he walks past me, I see the back of his T-shirt, which is incribed with the words, PARTY LIKE A ROCK STAR.

It is him. And it still doesn't matter.