I had the extraordinary pleasure of walking past a man about 300 pounds large with his shirt stained in spaghetti sauce and his belly sticking out as though planning to escape when the rest of him wasn't looking. My friend Claire turns to me and says, "So what's the deal with that guy?" [ Read The Rest ]

Escape Velocity the minimum speed at which an object must travel to escape a planet's or moon's gravitational field in order to orbit around it or move off into space. Encarta [ Read The Rest ]

by Jeremy Goodman

There is a fundamental truth that is difficult for those of us who live in Greater Boston have difficulty accepting: public transportation, with all its flaws, really does make life easier. Every day, I walk five minutes from my apartment in a two-family in a nice suburban neighborhood down to the station and ride a commuter train into the city. Once in the city, I switch over to the subway, which whisks me to within a hundred steps of the building where I work. While I have a wonderful car, it is reserved for necessities, such as grocery shopping, or for social engagements which are not accessible to public transportation. [ Read The Rest ]

Just days before we were heading down to Lincoln, Rhode Island for a night of slot machine fun at Twin River, I saw my first commercial for the newly renovated gambling hall. The ad spot featured a cascade of multi-ethnic middle-aged people dancing to the refrain "Take Me to the River" while blurry images of slot machines and plates of food rushed by in the background. [ Read The Rest ]

To kick off the night, the bridal party was introduced. We fashioned a tunnel for the bride and groom to run underneath and then they began the first dance to At My Most Beautiful by R.E.M. FYI for all future wedders, you can't dance to this song. It has no beat, no discernable rhythm and it's too fast to slow dance to. I know, I know, it is the sentiment that counts. Just putting it out there.
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The reception hall was absolutely gorgeous. It was the design of an old English manor and they ushered the bridal party upstairs for photographs and munchies. I have a strong appreciation for having a wave of appetizers forced at us before the cocktail hour, having been there whilst my brother's bridal party and family starved (and when we were finally released downstairs to the party, the guests had ravaged every single cube of cheese in the Bay Area.) Here, they took our drink order, we took some pictures, and it was a nice calming moment for everyone.
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The best part of my day came next. I got into the fight with the photographer because...well, he was a dumbass. He got it into his head to send the bridal party to this outdoor location for a few shots. Problem was, the location was nowhere near anything, and furthermore, no one in the wedding party knew how to get there. The photographer had three cars and the wedding party was in four; therefore seven cars had to make to this spot by each of us following the car ahead of us, the photographer in the lead car. [ Read The Rest ]

My morning task the day of the wedding was to get the groom dressed. Well, to push him along. He showed up in our hotel room forty-five minutes later than we expected and I practically pushed him into the shower. Ultimately, and he agreed in hindsight, by getting done ahead of schedule, he had time to finish his speech, micro-manage some more, eat lunch and relax a little bit. The bride on the other hand, was late for her hair appointment and came back frazzled and rushed to get into her gown.
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Continental breakfast cracks me up. A danish, a muffin and a banana walk into a bar...So I'm at breakfast and it's Saturday morning. My roommate for the weekend, another groomsman, is still blissfully snorning away and a handful of wedding guests are sitting in the lounge, munching on the complimentary breakfast and sipping coffee, talking quietly.
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If this is any indication of the weekend ahead, I'm in trouble.

It is Thursday night and I am leaving tomorrow in the Bride's car to drive down to Long Island Nowhere. My mission is to gas up the car, pack, and enjoy the rest of the night with a burrito from Qdoba in one hand, and the remote control in the other. (You thought I was going to say something else, didn't you?)
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