C.J.: Flynn wrote the book on being a great guy

Most people who met bestselling author Vince Flynn left with a story that illustrated what a great guy he was.

Wednesday, the day we learned of Flynn's untimely passing, a co-worker who once worked security for the now-defunct B. Dalton chain recalled how Vince had shown up at a Twin Cities branch of the bookstore to sign copies of his books — unannounced. That was his first book, the self-published "Term Limits," and he signed every copy in the store. Smart business move by him, and good for the bookstore, too. Bookstores love being able to slap one of those "autographed by author" stickers on the front.

A couple of months ago a reader posed an espionage question to me that would have made a fun item with some input from Flynn. When I heard Flynn's time appeared short, I decided not to bother him. More recently I'd been hoping Flynn would be able to have one more Father's Day with his family, bittersweet as it might be.

He did. Way to go, Vince Flynn. Rest well. Bet Flynn would've been surprised that his death was a trending topic on Twitter.

Community activist Erica Bouza told me her son, Tony Jr., used to make an imposing impression around the University of Chicago Law School with his two roommates, one of whom was FBI director-nominee James Comey.

She wasn't around the day I needed more details, so I got them from her husband, former Minneapolis Police Chief Tony Bouza.

"One was like 6-9, Comey's 6-8 and Tony is 6-5," said Bouza, who has asked me not to call him chief anymore. "Tony, Comey and a guy named 'Coggins' [Bouza didn't remember his other name and doesn't know the spelling] were roommates, and they remain friends to this day."

My understanding is that the lesser Tony makes a lot of money, which his dad describes this way: "He pillages. He has used his law degree to make deals. He does deals to make people rich and help himself a little bit in the process. The only problem he sees is that there are no blizzards into which to evict orphans and widows."

Bouza enjoys a good relationship with his namesake, who can reportedly handle the fatherly heat. "Listen, this has been going on with him for 52 years," said Bouza. "If he's not used to it by now, we're both doomed."

Bouza talks about his relatives the way I talk about mine — and they usually don't appreciate it.

In one last, far-afield reference, Bouza asked, "You know who else was a classmate? Guess: A prominent politician in this state?"

I gave up quickly.

Klobuchar probably stood tall in law school, although she's not up there in height like Comey, et al.

The Cheerios commercial with the biracial family that brought out the racists inspired a parody that won't sooth the bigoted souls.

Instead of the parents being a white woman and a black man, the spoof features parents who are a white woman and a black woman.

Thanks to my Twitter fan @cherylthemuse66 for calling my attention to this: www.startribune.com/a2322.

I've also noticed that the original Cheerios commercial is running in an edited version during which you don't see the daddy calling his wife by name. That's sure to make it more palatable for certain people.