PAULA POUNDSTONE: SHOOTING FROM THE HIP

Some fans shower their idols with flowers. Paul Poundstone's bring Pop Tarts.

They know she considers them "a fine taste treat."

It's a throwaway line delivered with a twist of self-indulgence and steeped in American popular culture.

It's important to remember, she says, that one of 16 Americans lives in a trailer park.

Poundstone, considered one of the country's most inventive comedians, will come calling at 8 p.m. Wednesday at Academic Auditorium. Tickets are $4 for students and $6 for the public. They are available at the University Center Information Desk and at the door.

The 32-year-old Poundstone belongs to the "Less than Zero" generation, the 'tweeners who missed the Baby Boom and predated MTV.

She was raised on television and Watergate and it shows. Poundstone reported live to NBC's "Tonight Show" from both political conventions. She parodied the seriousness of typical correspondent demeanor but had trouble hiding her dislike for the Republican point of view.

Host Jay Leno had to keep reminding her to try to be objective. Poundstone isn't objective about anything.

"If Clinton doesn't win," she declared by phone from Santa Monica, Calif., "I'm going to shoot myself in the head."

She shoots from the political hip but disdains political correctness, whether the subject is cats or sex or homelessness.

Take sex. Poundstone leaves it. "It's never really been my thing," she said. "Part of me says that it's indicative of all kinds of horribly screwed up things."

But she tells audiences about her supposed quirk anyway. "The first few times I said it people looked at me kind of funny," she said. "Now I say it and it gets applause."

Apparently, a considerable number of people feel the same way and are pleased to discover they are not alone.

"People are big on keeping up with the Joneses...and ignoring their number one resource one another," she says.

Poundstone's humor springs in part from her own sense of alienation from and ambivalence about the culture that provides her material.

She applauds women who are unafraid to show their age.

"The problem is," she said, "Cher goes and wrecks it for everybody."

Sometimes Poundstone, who was born in Alabama but is glad she grew up in Massachusetts, has the dumbfounded look of a kewpie doll who stumbled into a stag party.

At other times she drapes herself over a stool like a brooding teenager and shoots smart bombs at the most formidable of targets.

Part of her goldenness is that Poundstone's humor never crosses the line into mean-spiritedness. At her concerts, which usually take place in theaters, "nobody gets sacrificed," she assures.

Some women fans who have heard her say she does not like sex mistakenly assume she does not like men, and want her to indulge in male-bashing. She is appalled by the idea.

She prefers her performance establish "some sense of community and pleasure in one another."

This will not be Poundstone's first time at the university. She visited as a high school student in 1975 while two of her older sisters, Patty and Peggy, were attending the school. Patty was a 1979 graduate.

Poundstone doesn't know why they chose to come here. "Maybe because we have a relative in St. Louis," she offers.

By the way, Poundstone is selective about Pop Tarts. Only the brown sugar and cinnamon ones will do, fans. "I try to tell them I also like rubies and emeralds," she said.