Martin Mull is easy to spot in the New York City rush hour crowd. He's the One waiting patiently outside of 57th street's English Pub, clad in slightly baggy white pants arid a faded, short sleeved, flowered shirt, the kind you see on the .Mike Douglas Show when Don Ho and his zany Hawaiians are cutting up. He looks a little like Viv Stanshall from the old Bonzo Dog Band.

I'm standing across the street, gawking at this bizarre figure and wondering what it's going to be like having dinner with Martin (never dull) Mull. Mull, of course, is famous for his rather irreverant approach to music, which usually involves him sitting on stage surrounded by old furniture and singing ditties like "Ventriloquist Love" (the classic tale of a love triangle wherein one third of the participants is made of balsa wood), "The Nothing" (a dance craze designed for the most lethargic of party goers) and "Margie the Midget" (the story of two young lovers which concludes with th£. 4uo walking hand-in-anlde into the s,unset). When he's not warbling in his slightly monotoned 'crooning voice, Martin arid a back-up band spend their time Concocting such instant classics as "DuelingTubas" and "2001 Polka." The main question in my mind at the moment is "will Martin Mull stick a carrot in his ear during the interview just to upset me?"