Mitzi, Jason and I met up at Mohegan Sun yesterday.
I had never been, and have to say, it’s much nicer than Foxwoods — and much easier to get to (down the Mass Pike to exit 10, then route 395 all the way there.
The whole trip took me under an hour and a half door-to-door).
But I have to say, the best part of Mohegan Sun (other than the hot Krispy Kreme donuts right near the Summer garage where I parked) was that I left there a winner.
And how. Continue reading
It was really good to see my former college roommate Seth on Saturday. He was in town for a conference, and we met up for dinner Saturday night. Over some BBQ at the Village Smokehouse — yum — we made up for lost time, since we’d only been in touch intermittently over the last nine years. It’s always great to hang out with old friends and have it be like not a day has gone by. It felt that way with Seth, laughing about people we used to know, reminiscing about psycho ex-girlfriends (actually, just mine), good times, and catching up on our lives now. We’ve both changed a lot since graduation, but in some key ways, we’re both exactly the same. And that’s a real comfort to know. I hope we’ll stay in better touch from now on.
Some miscellaneous things that are on my mind today:
Sorry, neighbors: I hit snooze for a solid hour and a half this morning. That, after waking up in the middle of the night and sleeping on my couch for what must have been four hours. When the radio went off at 6:15, blaring from my bedroom, I darted off the couch, ran to go shut it off … and then proceeded to fall right back asleep.
Bagel basics: I’ve long thought that only Jewish people should work at bagel places. Before anyone gets all uppity that this is some sort of racist, reverse anti-Semitism thing, hear me out: When was the last time you had a good sandwich at Finagle-a-Bagel? Really. A good, well-made sandwich, where the ingredients weren’t just slapped together (in excess) and the bagel wasn’t burnt, etc. Too often, I feel like bagel sandwiches — whether they’re with cream cheese or turkey or whatever — are put through like some disorganized assembly line and made without much care for their quality. I take my bagels seriously (despite the fact that I still go to Bruegger’s regularly). Jewish people know from bagels. If Jews were making the bagel sandwiches at Finagle, they wouldn’t screw them up. Go to any bagel place in Florida. You’ll see.
This could have been worse: Nicole Richie was on the Today show this morning. At the risk of sounding like an old man triple my age, what a well-spoken young lady she was. Who knew?! Apparently she has a book out that’s “a novel a novel a novel a novel a novel a novel” — it’s repeated six times on the cover to underline and highlight the fact that even though characters closely resemble former aquaintances (i.e.: Paris Hilton), the book is not based in reality. Whatever. I’m still not going to read it.
T things: So if the T isn’t crowded and I’ve got plenty of space in the back of the train to stand, why must people come all the way back and crowd me? There’s plenty of room for them elsewhere. And in related musings, is anyone who rides the B Line happy? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone on that line smile. On the C Line, people are talking to each other, laughing — I mean, it’s not the love train by any means, but at least the general mood of the riders is happier.
Happy day: Today is Veterans Day. So who has it off? Only the post office, it seems. And also in related musings, I was in Shaw’s last night and saw “Happy Veterans Day” cakes. Do you really wish people “Happy Veterans Day?”
Bad TV: I’d care more that it’s Sam who dies on Reunion if only I liked any of the characters on that show. It’s a good premise, but not one of the six characters is compelling enough to make the show watchable. Basically, the only reason I do watch is because it supposedly takes place in Bedford, NY, which is where I grew up. Supposedly. That’s not the Bedford I know. The characters would have gone to Fox Lane High School (not Bedford High) and the hospital would have been Northern Westchester Hospital (not University Hospital). Just fyi, in case you’re curious.
Behave or be gone: I really liked this story from Wednesday’s New York Times. I think Dan McCauley, owner of a coffee shop in Chicago, has the right idea. “Part of parenting skills is teaching kids they behave differently in a restaurant than they do on the playground,” he says. It’s easy for me to say since I don’t have kids, right? But the same goes for movie theaters. Bad thing is, of course, it’s not just children: too many adults treat the movie theater like it’s their living room. It’s my biggest pet peeve — after people who don’t know the correct way to ride an escalator, of course. (If you’re going to stand, stay to the right and let the rest of us pass.)
Summertime: Got an advance copy of UB40‘s new CD, Who You Fighting For?, in the mail today (it’s out January 24). Yes, those guys are still around, and with this album, they’ve got a return to form. (And I’m not just saying that because the British Mojo Magazine said it first.) I have the CD on while I’m working and it’s making me forget that it’s, like, 40 degrees out and that I dug my cold weather coat out this morning. At least mentally, summer’s already here.
No day but Tuesday: Got my invite yesterday to see an advance screening of Rent next week. Can’t wait. Especially now since Jeff Wells has posted such a huge rave about the film on his site, “Hollywood Elsewhere.” Jeff calls himself a “not-very-hip type,” something I can identify with if I know what he means, and he, like me, saw the show in 1996 when the original cast was still in it (I also saw the original cast in London, if you’re interested). I’ve been listening to the movie soundtrack for a couple of months now and like it. I’ve also seen clips, but they cause me to be a bit reserved in my enthusiasm. Jeff Wells gives me hope today. Look for my review of the film mid next week.
Folks, it’s only a store. And a furniture store at that. Yes, I’ve been to an IKEA. I know how cool they are. But still, it’s only a store.
When the new IKEA location opened yesterday in Stoughton, the first person in line (an 18-year-old college student — of course) had been there 13 days. Thirteen days! Better, he was from Atlanta, not even from the Boston area. And better still, when the doors opened and he was presented with his $5,000 gift card, he didn’t even go shopping. He just went to the airport and headed home. (“Two weeks, $5,000 — that’s pretty good pay,” he said.)
I just don’t understand the mentality of people who do stuff like that. I mean, it’s not like the weather’s been all that nice here, and it’s not like the store won’t be there a day later. Sure, I get that there’s only glory if you’re the first one in. And yes, I’ve been excited about new stores before. (Mmmmmm … Krispy Kreme.) But why would anyone come all the way from Atlanta to wait outside of a store for two weeks? Sure, he got paid $5,000 just to sit around for two weeks, but he can only spend that money in one place. I wouldn’t even do that for a Best Buy gift card. If you ask me, the kid’s a moron.
Anyway, so the Boston Herald ran a story today about the guy who was third in line. “Survivor: Ikea” they called it. His name is Jeffrey Beaudett, and he’s a 41-year-old senior mortgage banker for Citizens Bank in Woburn, married, and the father of five. A responsible-sounding guy. Well, he waited in line for seven days. And for his trouble, he pocketed a $1,500 gift card. (In the photo, he’s the bald guy on the left, wearing the suit &mdash a suit!!)
According to the Herald, the people in line were able to take 10-minute breaks for runs to the bathroom or to smoke without losing their place in line, and had access to a shower inside the store once a day, though Beaudett says, “Some people took showers, and some people didn’t — and you knew who did and didn’t.” Otherwise, they pretty much stayed cooped up in the garage for as long as they were out there.
Here’s one of my favorite sections of the Herald story:
<< It wasn’t all happy times for the top five prize-winners, who slept overnight in a concrete cubby in the Ikea garage anywhere from five to 12 days, depending on their spots in line. The close quarters sometimes took their toll on the four men and one woman. Gossiping ensued, and squabbles erupted over issues such as territory and smoking.
“If you look at the five of us now, no one’s really talking to each other,” Beaudette said yesterday. >>
I can only imagine what kind of gossipping they were doing. And need I remind you that Beaudette is a 41-year-old father of five?
I also liked this part:
<< They read, watched DVDs, played video games and took delight in the small things — including the arrival of a second and more spacious portable toilet designed for handicapped users. >>
Nice. A new Porto-John. Woo hoo!
The Boston Globe‘s story about the opening included this anecdote:
<< By 11:15 a.m., Ikea had its first casualty. A $6.99 glass vase holding Lucky Bamboo sticks fell to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces across the brand new store. A crew of five quickly descended and swept the shards into a neat pile. >>
Sounds just like Disney World.
One thing I love about this IKEA store is that it’s right next door to a Jordan’s outlet and a half mile away from an Affordable Furniture. So you’d think the folks in Stoughton would have enough cheap furniture by now.
It must be the meatballs. Yes, that must be why 2,000 people were lined up when the store opened yesterday at 9 a.m. and why 20,000 people had been ushered through the doors by day’s end. Who can beat Swedish Meatballs? How else would you explain such insanity? Otherwise, let’s be honest: it’s just a furniture store.
[A note to the readers: Sometimes my sarcastic tone doesn’t exactly translate to print, so this entry probably sounded more like a rant than a mocking. Know that I wrote it with a big smile on my face, after laughing pretty hard while reading the Herald at lunch. And yes, if you read my posting from earlier today, you’ll see I never do learn from my mistakes.]
I can’t get too upset about Shannon’s death on last night’s episode of Lost.
For starters, we’ve known for months that someone was going to die. So when the episode began and it was clear that it was a Shannon episode, and most of the hour was going to focus on her — well, duh. Clearly she’s the one who was going to die.
And there’s no real loss to the show there. Sure, Maggie Grace is hot, but ever since Boone died last year, her character had turned into a bit of a drip (when they showed her, that is). And I just didn’t buy her relationship with Sayid. Talk about convenient. Continue reading
I’m happy to say I liked Walk the Line. I mean, really liked it. Really liked it, as in ran right out to buy the CD At Folsom Prison at the Virgin Megastore when the film was over (and it was on sale — bonus!). But … Continue reading
Hey y’all. I’m in the Globe again today, the centerspread of the “Sidekick” section.
There’s a sizable quote from my recent posting about Coolidge Corner — although the quote cuts off a bit prematurely.
Still, it’s good to get the exposure. I’ll pat myself on the back for a job (still) well done.
For those out of town, I have scanned the quote for you, just like I did last time. Just click on the image and it’ll show up in a bigger size.
Looks like there’s an error over at Excite.com. This is how my home page showed up last night. No kidding. I didn’t doctor this at all.
Someone tell me which one is supposed to be the wizard and which one is supposed to be the ape.
Spent a bit of time in the South End on Saturday with Pyles, Farrah, and Barry. It’s a funny thing: the South End is one part of town I just don’t really ever spend any time in. Not sure why. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I was there. Thankfully, we picked a great day weather-wise to take it in. And it was cool because I finally went to places that had been recommended to me for a while.
For example, our first stop was brunch at Metropolis Café. In a word: Yum. Good pancakes and eggs. Of course, I was really torn betwen that (aka: the Metropolis Breakfast) and the cinnamon brioche french toast, so I’ll definitely have to go back soon to try the other dish. Now granted, no other brunch place could ever compare to Johnny’s Luncheonette in Newton Center (I take my brunch seriously — more on that in another posting eventually), but it’s nice to have other good places to go.
Then we quenched our sweet tooths with a walk over to Flour, one of those much heralded bakeries that I’ve wanted to go to for, like, ever. I’m not going to say the homemade Oreo was orgasmic or even worth the wait (I think that’s because I was expecting something more along the lines of a Whoopie Pie), but it was real good — and gone in seconds. Ever the indecisive person, I was torn between that and the mini chocolate cakes, which also looked tasty. I’m going to have to go back there too. (Sense a pattern?)
On our way up Rutland Street, we all got a big laugh from a poem posted on some of the telephone poles that went something like this:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
No one wants to see all this poo!
Clean up after your dog
As you ought to do
And I’ll remove these poems from view.
— the poet from Haven Street
It reminded me that unlike some other parts of town, the South End is a real neighborhood. There’s a community feel to the area, no doubt due partly to the small gardens and communal gathering areas (and on other streets, the rainbow flags). I don’t think you could get away with posting that sign on multiple poles on my street — much less one pole.
I know the contents of this entry must not be news to most folks, but for me it sort of was. I’ve often been accused of spending too much time in my Green Line-centered world. I mean, I’m not the world’s biggest Cambridge or Somerville fan (thus, why I didn’t write up my afternoon spent in Central Square last weekend), but the South End is somewhere I could learn to enjoy. There are just too many good restaurants and too much nice architecture to overlook it in my wanderings around the city. And I know I just skimmed the surface on Saturday. So I hope to get back over there to explore the area some more (and try out the french toast and chocolate cake) real soon.
Instead of seeing a new movie this weekend (because really, considering I’ve seen 11 movies in the past month, I needed a break), I decided to watch my new DVD of Titanic on Saturday. (And thank you, Rebecca, for sending it to me.) Now, I’m not the world’s biggest Titanic fan, but I did see it twice in the theater back in 1997-98 and had decent memories of its quality. How times change. I’m not sure if it was watching the movie on my 27-inch television or if my taste in movies has changed that drastically, but man was this movie not all that good. (I know. Big shock.) Sure, the effects were (mostly) cool and all, but, um, who was Leonardo DiCaprio kidding when he got all insulted about not being nominated for an Oscar for Best Actor? Talk about an overrated, self-inflated actor. And Kate Winslet was only mildly better. I sat there on my couch trying to figure out why this movie was so popular and for so long. In addition to its big effects, it pandered to the audience, and had lame dialogue and stiff acting — I guess you could say it wasn’t all that different from films like The Day After Tomorrow, except that movie I know I liked. And where was the trailer? Of all the DVD extras to leave off, and there are plenty on the disc, that was one of the most puzzling.
Maybe your heart will go on, but mine remains stone cold — at least as far as this movie is concerned.
[Bonus trivia question: Titanic was the number one movie at the box office for 15 consecutive weeks. What movie dethroned it? Your only hint is that it was released on April 3, 1998.]
Martin's Musings 