Sorry to hear this morning about the death of comedian Soupy Sales, 83, in New York City after a long illness. His brand of silly and subversive humor (for the 1950s and '60s, at least) influenced later comedians from Jim Carrey and Andy Kaufman to Pee-Wee Herman. His trademark gag was smashing cream pies into the faces of celebrities and world figures who'd beg him for the embarrassment.

Soupy was also a great guy, which I learned about a dozen years ago. I was doing a weekly radio gig with Cleveland Wheeler at some station probably bought, sold and rebranded several times since then. Soupy happened to be on the show one Friday when I was in the studio. I stuck around much longer than usual just to kibbitz with him.

Cleveland got the idea for Soupy to hit me with a pie on the air. There was no way I'd refuse. Getting hit with a cream pie by Soupy Sales would be an honor.

Someone dug up an aluminum pie tin, a can of whipped cream and a towel to drape over my chest and shoulders. An assistant piled up the foamy sweetness about four inches high. Soupy milked the routine like a pro, rared back and smashed the gooey mess into my kisser. Laughing like a little kid, Soupy told me I had joined an exclusive club -- well, as exclusive as an estimated 20,000 targets can be -- including Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland and JFK. Nice.

The assistant began cleaning up the mess but I told him to save the pie tin. No way that I was going to let a souvenir like that slip away. Soupy graciously autographed it: "To Steve, a great guy, a wonderful writer. With lots of love and custard, Soupy Sales." If you look closely at the photo, you can still see the indentation of his palm and thumb.

The other thing I remember about Soupy is that he loved hot dogs. Absolutely loved them. One request he made at each appearance was the location of the best hot dogs in town. Cleveland's staff found a place near the station for lunch, and Soupy invited me along.

Trouble is, the hot dog joint we went to wasn't the one where Soupy's party was expected. We sat at the wrong one for nearly 45 minutes waiting for others to arrive. Soupy couldn't resist downing a couple of dogs anyway. When we learned where we were supposed to be, about a half-mile down the street, we headed there and Soupy scarfed a couple more tubesteaks. Good time.

Hope there's a hot dog stand in heaven. R.I.P.