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Jan. 31-Feb. 3, 2008 - I Am A Giant A$$#@le
   Because I Never Spelled It Out: Get ready for more of the best kind of angst, angst of a guy who hates the fact that his paper's paying to send him to Florida in the miserable early spring.

   Files For The Fort 3: March 3-13, and the calamities are already lining up. There'll be a cross-state trip again (for one final visit to Dodgertown), two scheduled lodging swaps and the possibility of another weather-addled, rage-fueled drive through Connecticut to avoid being holed up in New Jersey an extra night!

   I know I can't wait.

   • I miss anything?

S-T Patriots Preview, 2/3/2008
-- For those interested, the full 12-page preview is here.
Just right-click to save to your PC, and bask in our collective effort.

S-T, 02/04/2008
-- Real glad I designed something easily flippable win or lose.
(Win design didn't fade other games, and included Nos. 1-18 akin to up top.)

   See, when your boss sends himself and another one of your four paginating full-timers to Arizona, it makes it hard for everyone. Covering the Super Bowl is hard, and working the desk is hard.

   I can't say I'm ultimately glad he did, but there was definitely a silver lining. The Super Bowl preview section is my piece de resistance. There's stuff I'm not perfectly at peace with, like everything, but damn if it didn't come together and look good doing it. Just like the game ... for my Giants half.

Plaxico Burress, Ellis Hobbs (AP)
-- Shocking that Ellis Hobbs, giving up eight inches and talent
would look foolish on the game-winner.

   I'm definitely looking forward to watching this game on replay, because even though I set myself up to do the job -- our quarter-by-quarter summary -- that required watching it intently, I spent the whole thing pulling for 19-0. I was so caught up in the history of it, the desire for that coronation, the push for the '72 Dolphins to have to move their geriatric asses over that I forgot what Fan Cooch would have elevated above all else.

   In Super Bowl XXV, I didn't spent the run-up trying to play impartial journalist and figure out how the Giants could possibly beat the Bills (though it was a lot easier answer, given how good that defense was). I didn't drive myself crazy at the thought that they could lose ... hell, I didn't do that when the faced the Ravens seven years ago, fat lot of good that did me. I just watched it, and marveled at what I was seeing, more or less forever selling myself on whatever sports is.

   For the first time, I regret not just being a fan. Because I missed that the Giants, the team that issued this national TV clunker, this four-INT debacle and this ... I don't even know what to call the Redskins game, not just hanging with the greatest team in NFL history, but turning them into the greatest regular season team in NFL history.

   As the paper sat done for a few more minutes, and I looked through the photos some more, and I started to think about the classic I'd just watched, I started to smile.

   I couldn't stop.

   I can't stop now.

   Yeah, the Patriots lost. Their play calling was horrible, their line play was comical and they amazingly botched every one of the four times on the final drive -- Rodney Harrison had a pick clang off his hands, Asante Samuel out and out dropped another, the absurd near-sack and David Tyree catch ... -- when Eli Manning tried to give them the game.

   They're neck-and-neck as the worst-ever Super Bowl winner with the 2004 Steelers. They beat a bad division champ in Tampa, helped Tony Romo lay an egg and got the great equalizer from God when he leveled the playing field in Green Bay with blistering cold. Manning, if he'd lost the Tampa game, might have been out of a job in 2008.

   Now, they're all a shining piece of NFL history. Part of me feels like a shitheel.

   But a bigger part of me wants to know if the local Dick's is selling championship hats.

   I have no doubt that any extensive reading of anything in the near future would ruin that, because the Patriots just went from the NFL's reigning kings to some unholy marriage of the 2001 Mariners and 2004 Yankees. That's not going to end well, not with the entire world now having the moment where they can finally whip out their carving knives. True allegiances as they are, the Patriots deserve much, much better.

   So I'm going on sports media blackout, in so much as one can do that when they work in the sports media. Not that I'm a huge consumer of it anyway, since I don't like to willingly subject myself to things that are neither educational nor enjoyable, but there's just no need.

   Well, maybe a little WEEI on Monday. Nothing like a pompous group of dickwipe know-it-alls having to pull their swallowed tongues out of their throat.

   A copout's never felt so good.

January 30, 2008 - FFTF3: March 3-13
   • Sometimes, the most direct solutions aren't the best.

Booze Fix
-- Dartmouth, Mass.

   They are, however, always the most direct solutions.
January 29, 2008 - NHL 08, Here We Go
   Logo Geek: Given my personal interest, I'm always going to click on a story entitled "Students Align Against New BU Logo.

   However, I have a couple concerns.

The new-and-improved logo revealed last week, which was developed by Toth Brand Imaging, is a slight update on the previous red rectangular design -- the white line separating "Boston" and "University" has been removed in favor of slightly altered font and spacing.

"It's funny how you hear about little stuff like this, but you don't hear about major stuff," College of Arts and Sciences senior Robert Kavanaugh said. "I mean tuition goes up 5 percent every year, and I've seen my logo changing ... it looks exactly the same."

Kavanaugh said he could not tell the difference between the old and new logos.

   I do understand it is the college student's responsibility to complain about everything ... hell, this Web site began built around that ideal. But you can't really both "align against new BU logo" and "could not tell the difference between the old and new logos."

Old Left, New Right
-- If the headline was merely a pun,
that might actually make things worse.

   Pretty much a wash. Where the heck was the backlash when the athletics logo was drastically changed from "Awesome Circle-Badge Rhett" to "Dumb Boring 'BU' Square"?
Old and New, BU Athletics
-- Hacked together in mere seconds.

   Yet, it gets better.

"I doubt people will notice," College of General Studies sophomore Angie Thrower said. "I think it was a ridiculous waste of time to bother changing it. I feel like the old one is a lot better."

   The whole exercise was a gigantic waste of time that will be meaningless, and yet, I have a distinct opinion about one logo over the other. Perhaps if you'd spent this sort of passion in high school, you wouldn't be in BU's almost-college feeder program.

   It's all whatever. The students, the project, all of it. But that's what makes them all so very special.

   • Though I should really talk. I spent an entire shift tonight designing the cover for Monday's sports section. Blessedly, it's built in such a way that New England losing would only require a pretty minor tweak.

   No, you can't see it yet.
January 28, 2008 - Remember The Air Track
   Ten Years Too Late: Clearly, this shows I was born in the wrong generation. Or at the very least, ahead of my time.

In a darkened classroom at Great Neck South High School on a recent afternoon, the Advanced Placement physics students sped through a pop quiz, furiously pressing keys on hand-held clickers. A projection screen tracked their responses in real time, showing who knew what through an animated display of spaceships -- individually numbered for each student -- that blasted off or fell by the wayside with each right or wrong answer.

. . .

In a typical system, the clickers record data from individuals, and transmit that information, through wireless technology, to a computer program. The program can instantly display the results, tally them and present them in elaborate spreadsheets and eye-catching graphics like spaceships or 'Jeopardy!'-style boards. It can track the percentage of correct answers received for each question as well as the participation rate among all users.

The growth of the clicker technology in schools has been "very big and fast paced," said Jaci Hendricks, a spokeswoman for Qwizdom, one of several companies that manufacture the clickers. In the last five years alone, Qwizdom has supplied more than 750,000 clickers to schools nationwide, including those in Great Neck, New York City and Los Angeles.

   It reminds me about one of my great academic achievements. Shocking as it may be, I was not very good at physics. Taking the AP class as a senior, I got a solid C, but one that was finessed slightly to qualify for weighting, meaning my transcript shows I got some sort of B -- the professor liked me, and generally was a good guy.

   In that vein, before each big exam he'd host a game of "Physics Jeopardy." He'd draw a board, write up questions and basically host a game show for extra credit on the upcoming test. This would have helped me greatly had I known bullcrap about physics, but I didn't, so it never amounted to much.

   Fast forward to the final exam, which I had to take because paying $70-something to stupendously fail the Advanced Placement test just didn't seem worth my time. There's a tradition in Agawam that the seniors stay up the night before their final day of classes, hang signs on the tennis courts, party, goof off, etc. (I wouldn't be surprised if it's since been banned because somebody did something stupid.) Uncool as my friends and I were, we partook.

   I briefly took a nap in a Denny's booth at about 3 a.m., and maybe slept for a half-hour in my car in front of my house -- ironically enough next to Lonnie, who semi-willingly allowed me to cheat off her and will be getting married the weekend before I am. My first class of that final morning? AP Physics, complete with the final exam edition of "Physics Jeopardy."

   I'm still not sure how it happened, because it's not as though I prepared any differently or was at all prepared for a day of high school, but I got nearly every ounce of credit available. Something like 11 points, which is a pretty significant number when you're getting 50-somethings -- thank you, grading curve -- on exams. The details are a little hazy, but I seem to remember Mr. Gage ranging from happiness, out-and-out joy, suspicion I'd somehow cheated and back to joy.

   It appeared as though my stumbling block all this time had been coherency.

  By 12:30 p.m., I was alternating between complete exhaustion and crippling nausea, but it was all worth it. And not solely because one of my cooler female friends mistook -- in the darkness and her slight inebriation -- the can of Surge I was drinking as a can of beer, ascending me even higher on the AHS food chain.

Cooch, 1997-98
-- And given this is what I looked like,
I was already shockingly high on wit alone.

   • Speaking of friends and science, Jen N.. She's another person I know with a job I don't really understand, other than it has something to do with particle acceleration and Tennessee.

   Extremely generally speaking, she doesn't know a lot about sports in the same way I don't know a lot about science. However, we've discovered common ground.

   And because I don't really have a lot to add to the note she sent me today, I'll merely post the relevant excerpt.

Subject: Manning
Date: Mon, 28 Jan 2008
To: cooch at joncouture dot com

   Now, I realize that you are probably a Giants fan first and foremost, but I came across the following story today:

Eli Manning Took Cues From Mother

   I don't know if they'll have changed the picture by the time you see the article, but this is the one that I saw:

Eli, Peyton and Archie Manning (NY Times)

   Now, the point of this is that I'm wondering who thought this article was a good idea? In the photograph, he looks slightly scared, or confused, or both - doesn't have the intense look or confidence that is dripping off of Peyton or his dad, and then the article goes on to talk about how he would rather go antique shopping than go to sporting events when he was younger, among other savory tidbits about Growing Up Manning.

   Granted, I'm no sports commentator. But really? The eve of the biggest game of your career yet and you give an interview to the New York Times advocating your Mama's Boy side? There are many possibilities here, not the least of which is that people reading the NYT don't watch football, but that seems a vague assertion nullified by the notion that the article is being published in the first place.

   This only furthers the theory I just came up with right now. Living in Tennessee automatically makes you 25 percent more qualified to talk about football.

   Please insert your holes in this theory at will. I have no doubt there are several.
January 27, 2008 - Brief Interludes of Wrestling
   Interesting Factoid of the Day: Now that they've gone to High Definition broadcasts, WWE has banned its wrestlers and token eye candy from spray tanning. Apparently, if it starts to run during a match or on screen, it looks bad.

   Meanwhile, on all types of definition:

Ric Flair (WWE.com)
-- Ric Flair's 58-year-old chest lingers on.

   Would I eagerly accept that as my physique at age 58? Absolutely. I just don't think I'd be as eager to take my shirt off and flip around.

   • Also worth noting was that 64-year-old Jimmy Snuka toddled out tonight, doing things that God never intended a 64-year-old in a tiger-print singlet to do.

   There are no pictures. If you were asking for any, I want you to go rest for a while. Perhaps take an aspirin. You'll thank me later.
January 26, 2008 - Today's Wedding Calamity ...
   Chris Pasquale: I don't know you, but thank you.

Unfortunately, what seems to be keeping BU from living up to its No. 3 ranking in all-time wins and winning percentage is the man who helped get them there in the first place: (Jack) Parker. The Terriers continue to bring in some of the best recruits in the country each season -- high-powered, goal-scoring forwards, big, strong, solid defensemen and extremely talented goalies, only to see consistently disappointing results.

   Not going to seven games this year has saved me a pile of money, but I'm not exactly happy about it.

   • I don't exactly understand why giving the majority of Americans checks for $300-600 is a good idea from a governmental standpoint. Well, a better way to say it is I don't understand why it's not a good idea every year.

   I just want my damn check so I can put it in a savings account and not spend it.

   Yes, I understand that's not the point. But I also understand that Rent-A-Center doesn't have more than 3,500 stores because people like saving money.

   [Edit: This is a surprisingly interesting story on that very topic. Especially since it shifts the blame considerably.

A washer and dryer, selling for less than $660 at Best Buy or Lowe's, sold for as much as $2,000 if purchased over 24 months at Rentway.

A refrigerator, selling for $430 at Sears or $448 at Lowe's, costs up to $1,700 when purchased over 24 months at Rentway.

A Dell desktop computer, selling online for $559, costs nearly $3,500 when purchased over 21 months at Rent-A-Center.

A 27-inch JVC television, selling for $215 on Amazon.com, costs nearly $1,000 over 15 months at Rentway.

   I like to be accurate in my gross overrationalizations.

January 25, 2008 - April 29, 2008
   On The Super Bowl: I'm on a Giants out-of-town-fan mailing list from way back in my college days. It's amounted to little up until this year, but meant I got invites to viewing parties in Boston and have gotten scads about products along the lines of this.

Hey! Buy floor mats!

   Yes, they're extremely over-rated. So over-rated, they steamrolled to 22 straight points against New York in Week 17. (Leave it to The Onion to triple into the gap, by the way.)

   It's hard for me to even fathom, but the 18-0 Patriots are going to get to play the no-respect card going into their fourth Super Bowl in seven years.

   Bless you, national media.

   Rambo: Your safety is not guaranteed, because killing "is easier than breathing."

Rambo Kill Chart
-- From somewhere.

   What I want to know -- and it's probably somewhere -- is that who's responsible for planting the idea in Sly Stallone's head that we needed another Rambo movie 20 years later? Was it a child? Did he see it flipping channels? Is there an agent to blame?

   Something tells me that revelation is going to be way more entertaining than the actual movie, which my colleagues felt the need to localize.

"I was more excited for 'Rocky,' personally," says Eric Goggin, 23, of Dartmouth. "That movie was more realistic. It felt like what Rocky would've been these days. This one looks like it was made more for the money."

   Eric, have someone punch you in the nuts. Fifteen, 20 times. Just enough to dull the sperm.

   It's better for everyone.

   • I finished BioShock today, and despite a rather crummy ending, it's the greatest game I've ever played. I'll say nothing more because part of the joy was from knowing little about the story until it unfolded, but I can not recommend it highly enough.

   The complaints I've read seem to stem from it being a little too easy as a shooter, and perhaps built for a wider audience. Well, I'm the wider audience ... bodes well for any future jumps into modern warfare.

   GTA IV, the gauntlet has been tossed. It's about three months and counting.
January 24, 2008 - Nerds Like Science
   Dennis Kucinich: Upon seeing that he had dropped out of the Presidential race, I noted to Julie that this meant his wife would soon sadly fade again from public view.

   Apparently some people just view Kucinich as a joke, not a joke with a willowy, red-headed wife.

   (And in a related note, if a candidate drops out of the race, should the first place to report that be his OFFICIAL WEBSITE?! Shouldn't it not be 12 hours later without a mention of what's going on?

   I mean, really. Anna Nicole Smith's Web site even got that part down.)

   Non-Political Political Statement: All the loudmouth, look-at-me conservative pundits out there do realize that Heath Ledger was an actor, right? An actor who played a role where he was gay, a role that -- from what I read here -- didn't exactly portray homosexuality as the new fad you just gotta try?

   It would seem to me that it would almost never be a good idea to celebrate someone's death on the radio, in print, etc. unless they really did something awful. Hitler. Hussein. Pol Pot. Along those lines.

   But what do I know. I don't even know which pair of these single-colored glasses is the one I should choose to view THE ENTIRE WORLD THROUGH.

   • There was bar trivia tonight. What follows is a list of the questions that I was able to contribute answers to that no one else there already knew.

   One the plus side, Julie's $2/game, five-game Keno ticket won $8. That's almost not losing!

   A moral victory, much like my contact falling out while driving, our not crashing and my remoistening it by putting it in my mouth.

   That's sufficient explanation, I think.

January 23, 2008 - Is That Primer Paint?
   Bill Y. of Somerville: I choose not to frame it that I've got a friend who was quoted in a Bill Simmons mailbag, but a friend who's very excited to be quoted in a Bill Simmons mailbag.

   This is not to be confused with one of my colleagues being quoted in a Bill Simmons column, because apparently no one noticed Donte Stallworth has an alien alter-ego when said colleague wrote about it in September.

   Now that I think about it, our four-page Patriots preview was bigger than the barely three-page sports section I saw Lawrence -- circulation, 15,000-ish more than ours -- put out last week. I mean, Jesus ... our section was parts of nine pages tonight.

   • Real glad I agreed to work during a day of my vacation, and it was tonight.

   Won't be making that mistake again, even if it put me in contact with this:

Wes Welker and
In this photo provided by the Milk Processor Education Program, New England Patriots wide receiver Wes Welker has touch-ups done to his milk mustache during a "got milk?" photo shoot Tuesday in Mansfield, Mass. (AP Photo/Milk Processor Education Program)

   This couldn't be more creepy if he were waving a bloody ax.
January 22, 2008 - Someone Call Skip Bayless
   America Will Love This: The Patriots, thanks to forces put in motion years ago, have the NFL's easiest schedule next year.

   In so much as four West Coast games -- Seahawks, Raiders, Chargers, 49ers -- is easy.

   Bobby Fischer: The Jeremy Schaap story's already pretty well known, but it's worth watching, regardless.

   This may even make Schaap slightly less annoying in your universe. And I'm guessing that's needed.

   • What have I done so far on my week of 2007 vacation? A reasonable question.

Newton on the toilet.
-- He's not learning. He likes standing on things.

   This doesn't answer the question, but really, you didn't ask the question. You don't actually care.

   Thanks, jerk.
January 21, 2008 - Circles Make It Different
   Repeat Engagement: It occurred to me not long after Sunday's Web-only catharsis that this same thing actually happened in October ... I started following the Rockies when they hit the field some 15 years ago, to the point I've still got their original merchandise catalog and game program somewhere in the old room.

   It definitely wasn't to this level, as noted by my almost complete blissful ignorance about it while I was passively aggressively swearing at no one. Something about the 50 stories in the month of October made it pretty easy to forget.

   Well, that and their home city giving me a headache for two days. As though all the hot women in Halloween costumes roaming Blake Street after the Sox clincher could make up for that.

   (It was Halloween. I can't imagine the number of dating mistakes made over the years because someone looks like a sexy Catwoman in a darkened bar.)

   • The cover from Monday's paper:

S-T, Jan. 21, 2008

   I hope pride transmits well across the Internet.
January 20, 2008 - Why I Care About Sports

Super Bowl 42

   • I've been thinking about this possibility for 20 years, and I don't really know what to say.

   The pain in the pit of the stomach has been a Cooch sporting staple for as long as I can remember, but it didn't really reach a new level until Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS. I was a professional reporter, with an honest-to-God press pass, rippling beneath the surface about what was happening in front of me. It never really came up in 2004 until Game 6, when Tony Clark was a swing away from winning the Yankees the pennant, but that was genuinely because I would need to write an entirely new story in approximately 15 minutes. It last appeared against Cleveland in Game 7 this year -- I still can't believe Joel Skinner held Kenny Lofton.

   Today was the first time that I had no idea what would cure it.

   When the Pats looked vulnerable against San Diego, I started to ever so slightly pull against them, daring to think I'd get what I'd sort of secretly been pulling for all along. When that didn't work, I took solace in knowing Eli Manning was not winning a game in -20 wind chills. Not after the four years I've watched, a month's worth of play be damned.

   But they kept hanging in, intermittently as I was getting to really watch.

   They kept retaking the lead. 6-0. 13-10. 20-17. Then, the fourth quarter lumbering on tied at 20.

   Then, Lawrence Tynes was on the field, four seconds to go, 36 yards from a league-winning kick.

   Not even close. We all groaned. I was instantly crestfallen, despite hoping he'd miss it up to the ball being snapped.

   What, you wanted some sort of coherent thought process through all this? Trust me, I wanted one more.

   I figured that was it. Green Bay would drive down the field, win the game and I'd get my wish. Patriots-Not Giants. Of course, he's Brett Favre ... what better way to potentially end his career than on a game-losing interception after a dream season?

Brett Favre
-- Death mask.

   Of course, he's not retiring. Let's just pretend for a couple of months.

   I watched them drive down the field. Watched Tynes line up again -- apparently watching on an audio-less TV, the sudden flash to the field goal unit sparked 100-something reporters in the Gillette Stadium press box to, in unison, go "OHHHHHHHHHHH ..." Watched his kick hint to going wide again before slicing through.

   A Patriots-Giants Super Bowl.

   After years of throwing around hyperbole and saying that I can't believe it, I. Can't. Believe. It.

   Never in a million years did I think the Giants could win in Green Bay, so as much as I gnashed teeth here, I never really gave it much thought. But now that's it here, I'm making it clear.

   I have no fucking idea what to do, so I'm abstaining.

   I'm the kind of person who can typically find a silver lining in a whole lot of clouds when it's all said and done, so I'm not going to pretend. I hope the Giants win. I'm a Giants fan first, and I always have been. Stephen Baker. Phil McConkey. Ottis Anderson. Dave Meggett. Simms. Hostetler. Ike Hilliard. (Hell, Ray Handley, Danny Kanell and Rodney Hampton.)

   But if the Pats win, I think 19-0 will be perfectly easy to stomach.

   I think what bothers me the most, honestly, is that I won't get to watch with my Dad. He's involved in all the greatest spectator sporting memories of my life, starting with Super Bowl 25 on a plane by itself. Another game the Giants didn't have a chance in, and here I was, already getting my teeth kicked in by the Red Sox, watching my team win the championship against the odds.

   As for the work-related stuff, I take a great deal of solace in tonight having put out the best section we've done on a night I've been on the desk. I've honestly looked at the thing about 10 times already ... there's a couple little errors in it, but we busted our asses, had an incredible time doing it, and the whole system just worked. People were available to read copy, we caught factual errors, we made an attractive presentation, we made deadline by 15 minutes ... it almost made me think that we know what we're doing.

   How we'll do it again in two weeks, with the game starting three and a half hours later, I don't have the slightest clue.

   But for the moment, I also don't care. I mean, honestly ... the only two football teams I've ever cared about are both conference champions.

   Life's pretty damned good, I guess.

January 19, 2008 - Pats-Pack or Bolts-Blue. Thanks.
   This Isn't Racist: It's just extremely strange.

Gorilla Grape
-- Please don't hurt me, genetically-altered simian.
I'm merely a humble juice man.

   And for that matter, what's up with "Virgin Lemonade"? I'll assume it's on the same lines as virgin olive oil, but it's not like that isn't setting an unreasonable standard of chastity for America's whore-obseesed youth.

Lindsay Lohan
-- Oh, hey! Look who stopped by!

   I do enjoy that the Web site I ripped this off of makes no mention of the ankle bracelet, at worst there as a joke.

   • Big day on Sunday. Real big day. Last before I go on vacation for a week.

   I've decided to root against the Giants in so much as I can, because honestly, it's the path of least resistance. I've picked against them, I've reassured myself that Eli Manning is not winning a game played with a wind chill of -20, I've all but put it out of my mind.

   Course, if the Pats somehow lose, all bets are off. Not the least of which is the newspaper section, largely put to bed in my head, will become an epic, epic cluster[blank].

   At your job, if your boss asked you if you could cover a shift during one of your vacation weeks, would you laugh at him? Would you simply make up an excuse about having plans? Or would you just say yes because your boss knows that's what you're going to do?

   I'll get paid, of course ... I'm just curious whether I'm as much of a patsy as everyone else seems to think I am.

January 18, 2008 - Cooked Sushi
   Student Trust Update: Perhaps wanting students to embrace the smell of discarded Keystone Light boxes and the thousands before them who've puked in the apartments down by the athletic center, BC has set up its housing exit strategy from the suburbs.

BC's Institutional Master Plan calls for the addition of 610 beds over the next 10 years. The project aims to house 92 percent of the undergraduate population, BC officials said. The administration will limit students' off-campus options to apartment complexes close to campus, said BC off-campus life committee chairman Sean Scanlon.

Once construction of new dormitories is complete, BC plans to limit students' off-campus accommodation to 2000 Commonwealth Ave., an apartment-style residence near campus where a two-bedroom unit now costs $1,875 each month.

   I'm not 100 percent sure how they can do that, but I have no doubt they can. What's to stop kids from jsut claiming commuter student status and live wherever the hell they want? (I'm five years out of college. Definitely might be talking out my ass.)

   Meanwhile at Former Hockey Power U., more things I sure would have loved.

StuVi2 will incorporate both apartment- and suite-style living arrangements, becoming the first dorm of its kind at BU. At 26 stories, the main tower will make it the tallest dormitory on campus, and it will feature two floors of bicycle storage and a large common lounge on the top floor.

"It will have awesome views," Robillard said. "We are really looking forward to that."

   On the plus side, I get to watch from afar when a year there hits $50,000, which I'm sure will further enrage Mr. Future Dane Cook.

Sure, I know I'm getting a good education, but spending this kind of money on knowledge should make me into an all-knowing robot. BU should be giving me superpowers for what it's charging me.

   When you essentially write in the previous paragraph that your parents pay your tuition, they're really not ripping you off, are they? Never mind the fact that you're a communications student.

   If you were worried about money, you'd have trained for a real job.

   • I've never gone inside a Hollister, never mind bought anything from there. If you have, help me out.

Hollister Penis Neck Mannequin
-- Do all the mannequins show penis neck? Is that part of the point?
Does it make you think, "Oh, shit! I need pants to cover MY penis neck!"

   I have far more important things to spend my money on.

Lice Comb
-- If there's anyone who knows about lice, it's school nurses.

   Plus, I've got far more important problems than my bulge hanging over the edge.

Newton in the window.
-- This is now my excuse for every time the updates are late.

   [Editor's Note: I do not actually have lice.]
January 17, 2008 - Web-Based RSVP For Great Justice!
   BFD: I knew deep down it wasn't what I hoped it was.

   That doesn't make me any less disappointed that the 'F' stands for 'Fantastic.'

   Good to know the Internet agrees with me.

   Rachael Ray: I heard this early in the day and thought nothing of this. Then at work, I read this.

No more Rachael Ray but plenty of TMBG commercials (only without John Goodman on voiceover). She's even gone from the Web site. Thank you, Dunk's! Please, please, please say this is permanent!

   I find it incredible that despite not drinking coffee, not regularly eating at Dunkin' Donuts and really, really not giving a shit, her DD commercials actually made me hate Rachael Ray as much as Julie does. It's like she wanted to make people hear "DELISH!!!" in their nightmares.

   For that, I thank them post-mortem. (For the hate. Not the nightmares.)

   • How the wedding planning going? We have the invitations catalog (and its tote bag) from the newspaper-affiliated printing company.

   As you can see, I'm very excited about the whole process.
January 16, 2008 - Awe
   MacBook Air: I've long since believed it's necessary for me to own truly cutting-edge technology, whether as an early adopter or not. It took until after college for me to get a decent cell phone. I will probably linger into 2009 before buying an HDTV.

   And I will never, ever own a $3,000 laptop with a 13-inch screen.

-- This guy probably will, though.

Between 0.16 to 0.76 inch thin and weighing only 3.0 pounds, MacBook Air sets new standards for ultra-portable computing ... without the usual ultra-portable compromises.

Its 13.3-inch widescreen LED backlit display delivers 1280-by-800 resolution which produces vibrant images and rich colors. The LED technology also conserves battery life.

   Really? Those aren't compromises? Because for a minimum of more than double what I paid combined for a new laptop AND desktop, I'd like to think I'm getting more than a sub-100 GB hard drive, being locked in to 2 GB of RAM and no on-board CD drive.

   But what do I know? They'll probably sell a million.

   • There are few things in this world more surreal than talking wrestling with a 93-year-old man.

   There are also few things more enjoyable than going through someone else's baby pictures when all of yours are 200 miles away.

   Long story short, I spent my day off at a funeral. Though on the plus side, anytime I can blow money here ought to be considered a good day.

   I've pretty much given up being alive when I'm 93, never mind being almost completely coherent like Julie's grandfather. He still drives and lives in a multi-story house! He's mad because the doctors say he can't use his snowblower!

   I have a treadmill I haven't used in a year!

January 15, 2008 - The Plasmids Are Going Well
   It Tastes Just Like It Smells! Reads!:

Chicken Cordon Blue Balls
-- Delicious! (NOTE: Did not eat. May not actually be delicious.)

   I think what I enjoy most, aside from the first thought in my head being "I need to eat that," is that I have no idea what it's actually supposed to mean. Did they accidentally package a sandwich in that box, and the balls in another container? Did letters get cut off? Do I have a co-worker who loves Chicken Cordon Blue Balls, and is pissed that they're not actually in the carousel?

   But most importantly, is a 16-year-old labeling my last-resort office food?

This Buch's Gaining Value
-- Uh-oh, more baseball. I'm out of my depth again!

   • Technically, a 14.5-hour workday.

   And let me tell you, playing BioShock until 3-4 a.m. doesn't help a guy get the rest he needs to not almost fall asleep at his desk.
January 14, 2008 - Again, I Don't Know Baseball
   Please Note: I have begun posting on the new blog Telling It Like It Is, begun by friend of the show Ed Berliner as part of his Speeding Bullet Network.

Those were the days.
-- September 2003. His hair, I would guess, has not moved in the interim.

   Ed receives tremendous credit for realizing the potential of the Cooch's World brand, giving this Web site at least 500 times more play than it ever deserved. I always kind of wondered how it ended up that the plugs on my appearances went here instead of to The Standard-Times, but no one appears to have noticed but me.

Jon Comey, Manservant
-- If this didn't do it in June '05, complete with calling my former boss my 'manservant,' I don't know what would.

   Anyway, get on the bandwagon before I say something racist or give up altogether. It's my track record, after all.

   • The latest Jim Rice isn't a HOFer column hasn't drawn a response yet from my favorite fan mailer ever -- Mr. "Jonny, were you alive when Jim Ed Rice actually played?" from 4/15/07 -- but it's got a friend.

Subject: Jim Rice HOF column
Date: Mon, 14 Jan 2008
To: jcouture at s-t dot com


   Having spent some time catching up on my reading, I happened upon your column this morning and was outraged. Jim Rice not worth of the Hall of Fame? First, I must ask you. How old are you and just how much of Rice's career did you actually see?

   I ask this simply because I am sick and tired of reading and hearing people make their judgments purely by looking at numbers that have become so skewed by the recent steroid-enhanced numbers of the past 13 years or so that it robs legitimate HOF candidates like Rice of their deserved place in history. In addition, the emergence of sabermaticians into the game has resulted in an attempt to rewrite history by using specific, ridiculous statistics to try and back their claims. You can try all you want to try and prove that Roy White was a more productive player than Rice, as one book suggests. But anyone who saw the two play would suggest the author was popping pills. Rice didn't walk as often as some other players because he was up there doing what a power hitter is supposed to do - drive runners in.

   In reality Rice's numbers, when compared to his peers of the era of the mid '70s to mid '80s, shine quite brightly. But someone wise once said, "You just know it when you see it." And the stories of Rice's dominance and the downright fear he put into managers and pitchers alike during the period of 1975-86 should further his case for the Hall. Goose Gossage himself, the best short reliever of the time, said that, though he feared no one on the field, Jim Rice came closest.

   You mentioned Mike Schmidt (one player) as being more dominant than Rice during the period of '75-'86. "(Rice, it bears noting, had 430 more hits in those 12 seasons)" - your parentheses, not mine! It bears noting? Hello! Perhaps that could be a reason for the vast difference in their batting averages, which you failed to note, during that time. I mean, 430 hits is the equivalent of two great, and close to three decent seasons for any player - even in today's crazy offensive game. I would even argue that base hit totals are perhaps one of the only categories where you can fairly compare apples to apples from era to era. Even with that being said, you mentioned one National League player. Forgive me, Rice was the most feared right-handed hitter in the American League during that period.

   Aside from that, you are looking at intentional walk totals to determine how dominant a player was because you never saw him yourself. In case you don't recall, the Red Sox of the mid to late-1970s had some of the best offensive lineups in history, nevermind of the era. I mean, they had a guy (Butch Hobson) hit 30 homers and knock in 112 runs from the No. 9 spot, for crying out loud. It was simply a game of pick-your-poison. They had guys like Fred Lynn and Hall of Famers Carl Yastrzemski and Carlton Fisk surrounding him in the lineup. I don't think many people were offering intentional walks to the Sox at that time. And it was also during this time that Brewers (that's right, Jon, the Brewers were once in the American League) manager George Bamberger once intentionally walked Rice with the BASES LOADED.

   Guys like Schmidt, George Brett, Dave Winfield and Eddie Murray all had more intentional walks because there was no one else following them in the lineup who posed as legitimate a threat. Do you think Barry Bonds would have collected as many free passes as he did if maybe a guy like Alex Rodriguez or Matt Holliday were following him instead of Jeff Kent or Benito Santiago did for San Francisco in recent years. And yes, Fred Lynn was as good at that time as the two I mentioned.

   And double plays are a moot point. The all-time leader in double plays is Henry Aaron. Rice played on teams that got on base. Therefore he had many more opportunities to hit with a runner on first base and he hit the ball hard - double plays were inevitable. He grounded into 36 in 1984 - a record - but he also drove in 122 runs and his career batting average with runners on base was .313. So I think he probably succeeded far more often than he failed in that situation.

   You also mentioned that he only won one MVP during his career. Well, he finished in the top five five times, the last time in '86 when he hit .324 with 200 hits, 20 homers and 110 RBI and 16 outfield assists. He was an eight-time All-Star and a power hitter who was a consistent .300 hitter in an era, Jon, when power hitters were more likely to hit .250 than .300. Compare his numbers to guys like Kirby Puckett and Tony Perez and he certainly deserves election. Puckett's career was cut short by an eye injury, but look at his numbers and realize he never was a truly feared player. A perennial All-Star, sure, but not a truy dominating force. Perez earned election despite hitting 3 fewer home runs and playing nearly a decade longer than Rice - and his batting average pales in comparison.

   Also, you compare Manny Ramirez' defense of the wall to be as good as anyone's. I beg to differ. First of all, Yaz played the wall better than anyone and Rice mastered it after him. He had a strong and accurate throwing arm, leading the league in outfield assists in 1983 with 24. And he played hurt (EVERY DAY). Rice never would have asked for a day off and refuse to pinch hit, as our friend Manny has only too often. He led the league in games played in 1978 with 163 - including the one-game playoff with the Yankees.

   I am not going to begrudge you your opinion - you are certainly entitled to that much. But try to look a little further into a player's career than the very same arguments and a quick scan of his statistics without trying to find out the real story. In other words - DO YOUR HOMEWORK! I myself am only 31 years old and to be fair, caught only the final five years or so of Rice's career. But I consider myself a pretty fair student of the game and have done my share of reading about the game's past in order to appreciate what the true stories are. I've also talked to enough people who have seen Rice play in his prime to make a fair determination.

   Anyway, I'd love to hear back from you on this. No hard feelings. I used to be a stringer there for a while, but I think you started there just after I left. It's been almost six years since I've sat down and written anything like this, but after reading this column I just had to respond.
-- It was actually signed with a name, which is always a nice touch.

   It's long, so let me boil it down.

   Positives: Rational thought, cogent arguments.

   Negatives: Enough smarm to be a jackass, but not enough to be an over-the-top, hilarious jackass.

   Actually, that might be a positive too, come to think of it.
January 13, 2008 - Dark Corners
   Look Where My Traffic Leads Today: A screencap I made of Simpsons favorite Nuts and Gum:

Nuts and Gum
-- I'm a white male, age 18 to 49. Everyone listens to me!

   is currently quite the hit on this white nationalist message board. Seems it perfectly meets what they're looking for in an "anti-race mixing symbol." Be a real shame if every one of those fucks got a bullet between the eyes, wouldn't it?

   Which, ironically, half of them would choose over a conversation with a darkie!

   • It has never been closer.

NE-NYG. Feel the panic.

   For two decades, I've laughed about the possibility. Mulled it with a sort of half-dread, half-hope that I truly couldn't rectify.

   A Patriots-Giants Super Bowl. One of my favorite sports, the only one where I legitimately follow two teams. (Sorry, Florida-Colorado Stanley Cup Finals. You just can't compete.)

   I never really thought it would happen, because the odds were too long. And now, not only is it down to its final day ... if it happens, I won't get to watch it unfold live and in person. I won't get to watch it with my father, the man who raised me a Giants and a football fan. I won't get to watch it at a party. I won't really get to watch it at all.

   I'll get to put out a newspaper while it's happening, because my mother-fu ...

   I don't even want to think about it. Honestly, I'm praying the Packers simply do what they're supposed to do on Sunday afternoon. Because if they don't, I will have a nervous breakdown. I will become completely irrational, say 100 things I should never say and probably get myself suspended.

   It wasn't really an issue before now, and I can't really say it significantly lessened my enjoyment of Giants 21, Cowboys 17.

   I can't find the picture of him on the sidelines in the immediate aftermath, with a look on his face that simply says, "I've just crapped my pants," but Jerry Jones is locked in to Sporting Images of the 21st Century.

"I thought we had a chance, a real chance with two minutes left," Jones said. "I didn't think at all that we didn't have the ability to score or the momentum to score."

When that chance was lost, Jones said, he felt a pain like no other he's had in 19 seasons in charge of the Cowboys.

"This is a first," he said, "We had a team that had the kind of ability that this team had, not to be able to push this thing to a championship game."

   But I'm actually sick to my stomach just typing this. I'm not supposed to care about this stuff that much anymore.

   But I do, and it scares the hell out of me.
January 12, 2008 - Oh, And The Pats Won
   WANTED: Fat guy to be mocked as generic computer gamer.

-- Must not be hung up about dignity.

   This doesn't technically have anything to do with the CES/Gizmodo prank, but the "KILL YOUR TV!!!!1" piss wars it has spawned are well worth watching from afar while shaking your head.

   Know what? I watch a little TV. Today, hell, I watched the end of Manchester United's 6-0 pillaging of Newcastle. What did it make me want? To buy a Newcastle jersey, because I like the beer and their kit kicks ass. Plus, Michael Owen!

   (Notable that their team quite specifically does not kick any ass at the moment.)

   • Ten years from now, Michael Wilson will think back wistfully about this:

When New York City’s open-armed embrace of tourists finally extends beyond the boundaries of Earth to creatures from outer space, these visitors will find themselves right at home in Madison Square Park’s sleek, shiny new public toilet.

   Well, at least he would if he were me.
January 11, 2008 - Apple Wine, Sort Of
   The Things We Learn: One of my co-workers owns a tortoise as a pet. Like, a giant tortoise ... he says it's currently 50 pounds, and lives in a plastic kiddie pool full of rabbit pellets -- "he can eat them and it won't hurt his digestive tract."

   Apparently it wanders the house, and does come when called. When asked how he'd cope with the tortoise once it grows to a largely unmanageable 300 pounds, the answer was simple.

"They live 150 years. I'll be long dead."

   One vote for giant tortoises as pets!

   • It's at moments like this when I wonder why exactly there aren't editors calling me, begging me to leave Whale City.

   Then I read Mike Downey's previous column was on the hugely popular Chicago Sky WNBA team, and I wonder if my current setup is all for the best.
January 10, 2008 - Big Money? In Sports?!
   If This Is On An Aquarium of Mice:

Eat Mice!
-- Are they encouraging me to buy mice as pets?
Or do they just not want blood on their hands?

   Definitely never thought I'd see a "scoop your own litter" display in my lifetime. And definitely never thought I'd think about using it because, wow, that is a good deal compared to Tidy Cats!

   • Julie needed some sort of Patriots gear for school on Friday, so naturally, I suggested going to the source: the Patriots Pro Shop at Gillette Stadium.

   This was a good decision, because there's some stuff worth seeing there. The hat collection, which includes all the AFC/Super Bowl championship hats from their non-1985 glory days.

1996 AFC Champions
-- I believe the 'original' is still in my Feeding Hills closet.

   There's also the thong bin. The various photos of past glories. The throwback wall, where you can buy a jersey Randy Moss will never wear or the ugliest reversible coat I've ever seen.

Patriots Suck Wordmark
-- Someone needs to use this font to spell 'Failure.' I'd buy that shirt.

   The only downside (and one that should have been forseeable from a team that charges $40+ for parking)? ABSURD PRICES ON EVERYTHING.

   Julie's shirt ended up rivaling an eBay jersey purchase. And I'd own a Revs mini ball and Eastern Conference T-shirt if they didn't combine to cost as much as her shirt.

   Thankfully, their new jersey is boring. I'd still buy their inaugural jersey if it was available ... sure am glad I gave that to my ex-girlfriend at a point when she was already probably cheating on me.

   Twelve years, and I haven't forgotten. What's perspective? Is it important?

January 9, 2008 - The Celtics Suck Again!
   Bobcats 95, Celtics 83: Nothing makes me remember I'm a fraud Celtics fan like that feeling of "Oh, I don't care" after they lay their first egg in 34 games.

   In the same vein, I'd normally read a story like this and immediately begin to perversely hope the Patriots lose, just to see what happens.

Defensive end Paul Spicer even jokingly offered to let the Patriots borrow his digital camera if they wanted to take snapshots of Jacksonville's defensive signals.

"We are confident," Spicer said. "It's us against them. They're 16-0, they're wonderful, they're great. But the bottom line is they have to beat us Saturday. Until that happens, we're 1-0 and they're 0-0."

-- Spicer later added, "You guys aren't just using me for quotes, are you? Good."

   But really, if I can't even cheer against them because it makes my job demonstably easier for the span of a couple weeks, this crap isn't going to work either.

   • There's no reason I should have paid money for this, is there?

   While I've played a good deal of soccer, the runaway successes of the XBox 360 so far have been Geometry Wars and Marble Blast Ultra. Combined cost: $10.

   I actually had no idea 360 games were generally $60 ... that's absurd even by my "independently wealthy" standards. Imagine how much better I'd feel about getting BioShock on eBay for $37 total if the asshole in Georgia would actually get me the game and not keep me wondering how exactly dispute resoultion is handled on the lawless Internet.

   Or maybe in the South, nine days is considered acceptable because they move at a slower pace. I don't know. $60 is millions in my world, but $37 ... ha. I wipe with $37.

January 8, 2008 - Look Out, Class of 2016!
   Bring On The Hate Mail: Previously hate mail referenced within.

Rice Denied Again, And It's The Right Call
-- All I forgot were the comparisons to Albert Belle.

   Seriously, look at the numbers. I forget where I first saw that, but it's a damn good observation.

   • I have no problem with store-brand alternatives to normal, brand-laden food.

Potstickers: Do Not Let Stick To Pot!

   I just ask them to try a little harder in the future.
January 7, 2008 - You 40. Go Over There.
   Unexpected: For reasons I can not place, I watched better than a half of a Doctor Who marathon today.

   I then went online to read about what I had watched, and became so confused by the story twists that I'm not sure if any of it ever happened.

   I presume that's the way the Doctor would have wanted it.

   • While Julie went to a bridal expo this weekend, and we now have a wedding photographer, I took to putting together a guest list combining Julie's family estimates with the list of invited I received from my parents.

   There's a total of 191 names, which I know doesn't include some people that are coming.

   We're hoping for a 150-person wedding.

   I think I found the way to get excited about wedding planning. Invite hacking!
January 6, 2008 - Is That You, Eli?
   American Gladiators: All I can say is it's nice they showed a contender blowing out her knee not only five minutes into the premiere, but after they'd spent the whole show open building up how she was a mother devoted to her children, and how she really had no business being on the show.

   That is called "delivering on the promise."

   • Giants 24, Buccaneers 14.

   The last time the Giants won a playoff game was a game I suspect non-Giants fans might even still remember: Giants 41, Vikings 0. One of my favorite football games ever, a game I still have saved on VHS tape, but also a game that ultimately cost me a rather sizable chunk of money.


   Playoff performances, at least for me, are going to be set to that barometer. Was this the sort of game that, were the clock turned back, would lead me to make a sizable, largely irrational bet on New York?

   It wasn't. I saw a lot of things I liked: Ahmad Bradshaw picking apart the run defense, and possibly forming a 'Thunder and Lightning II' with Brandon Jacobs. Eli Manning engineering the sort of long drives that you need to engineer to be an elite quarterback. Playcalling that appeared to use some forethought.

   Can the Giants beat the Cowboys? Absolutely, they can. Their defense is a lot better than it was when it gave up 45 points in Dallas in Week 1, and they were tied after the first half in Week 10.

   But I don't think they will.

   That is, unless she shows up.

   Please, please, please.

   On the plus side, the Giants staying alive means there's still a chance of a Patriots-Giants Super Bowl. A Super Bowl that, as I may have mentioned before, I will not be attending.

   Let's stop here and just hope, OK?

January 5, 2008 - How I Ended Up Dead, I Don't Know
   Is Melville Laughing?: Or did he want people, 150 years in the future, collecting under a whale skeleton to marathon-read his masterpiece aloud?

Jim DeArruda loves whales.
-- People = My co-worker Jim, among others.

   Every year, this happens in Whale City. I've never gone to any of it, but given I knew one of the readers right after our shift was done, it was as good a time as any.

   It's organized enough that you generally sign up to read ahead of time, and you know what you'll be reading because it's all 10-minute blocks. It's disorganized enough, though, that Jim didn't actually get to read the part he wanted/was supposed to, leading to elderly gentlemen flush with power arguing about things in hushed library tones. (Jim is not elderly. He was just flushed, because the part he was supposed to read involved an exchange between a black cook and a whale-killer who wanted the cook to bitch out sharks.)

   I've never read Moby Dick, so maybe everyone knows about this and it's literarily famous. All I now know is Chapter 64 ends with a clause involving the word "masturbation" that doesn't have anything to do with the literal act.

   Oh, that Melville. He knew our society would devolve right into the toilet.

   Kayfabe Shatter Alert: My attending the reading actually happened on early Friday, following my shift on Thursday. I couldn't post it then because that post is all quotes from the latter half of 2007.

   Six months from now, people who aren't me won't remember that it took me a week to actually post those quotes. All that might happen is someone will stumble across this and laugh that I'm writing like anyone gives a crap about any of it.

   • There is no direct correlation between the way I actually spent my day off, working more or less until dinnertime with the new computer after I'd done so until 6 a.m., and this note which was taped to the door of the men's bathroom at work.

Ew! Bathroom germs!
-- Oh no! There's germs on things! Cut it out, guys!
(Amazingly, this note wasn't on the women's room also,
meaning there's a penis-holder responsible.)

   I just find there's a nice tie to trying 3-4 different mail clients, becoming enraged with being unable to get my old mail to transfer into a new program, installing my printer without the proper drivers and crashing Internet Explorer, summoning the laptop, downloading the proper driver, running a system restore, replacing the old PC with the new -- we've only got one monitor -- to find more stuff that needs to be transferred over, transferring it, installing my Office 2003 CD from the old laptop to get Outlook, importing my mail into that to get it to the new program, needing two tries to download all my MP3s from my music player because of Media Player's ham-handed synching attempts, the joy of a supremely fast BitTorrent download of software I don't legally own ...

   Yeah, all that? I find that correlates nicely with a room designed for people to dump their human waste in.

   Ultimately, I think the thing that I enjoy the most is that I'm a dork, but not quite enough of a dork to make it financially lucrative. Perfect for a technophobe family member who needs a PC set up or a television configured or a TiVo explanation, but not enough to do anything that I could possibly sell to the general public. Just too big of a chance that some error message will appear, and I'll have to go, "Well, you're going to have to call these guys. They actually know what they're doing."

   Please note that the same general framework could be applied to my writing/reporting skills, my poker skills, my athletic ability and my feelings on personal apperance and fitness. Whomever's the last one left, please make sure this is properly reflected on my tombstone.

Whoops! I died!

January 4, 2008 - Eight Years In The Offing
   USB Rocket Launcher Update: For some reason, it sometimes misfires. Other times, the fins on the rockets get tangled up and launch their missile in a perfect metaphor for erectile dysfunction. We've already discussed the noise issue, which makes it a little hard to sneak up on someone and drill them in the eye, almost a necessity if it's to get me fired.

   This is all going to end up with me doing the sensible thing ... Nerf. It's just a shame that I can't stream the WJAR "live from the newsroom of The Standard-Times" spot I inevitably ruin.

   Idle Hands: This is how I spent some of my pre-work hours Friday. Not using the treadmill. Not working on a wedding guest list.

Gutted for sport!
-- My old laptop, taken apart, then reassembled for "Lobotomy Mode."

   Ostensibly, I was taking it apart to destroy it, or at the very least reduce it to sellable parts to get it the hell out of the apartment. Course, in the process of determining what would be sellable, I found DC jacks on eBay that could fix the thing's entire issue for $10, plus the gift to whomever I find to remove the old jack and soter the new one on.

   Of course, when Julie saw this picture, she said "Well, what if I want it?" Old Yeller's owner didn't have these kinds of problems, and that was over a dog.

   Not to mention that my search for the hard drive, which involved taking out about 50 screws and components, could have been completed in approximately 30 seconds had I made even a rudimentary effort to look for directions.

   I know just enough about electronics to get myself killed. And that's before even considering the accidential suicide potential of something heaved across a room in rage ricocheting back and hitting artery.

   • When I get packages delivered to the apartment, I have to keep the blinds open in hopes of seeing the attempted delivery, since the buzzer is broken. It never works, which is how I ended up finding out the UPS delivery guy at the facility in Dartmouth both knows my work and likes it. Still, not a real good system.

   When I get packages delivered to the office, the secretary downstairs calls me to tell me it's there. And if she's not there to do that, it sits downstairs when I can very easily pick it up.

   What the hell's my point? I now have another reason to delude myself into thinking I made the right career choice all those years ago.

   Now, to stay up until the wee hours transferring files and generally dorking out because OMG, NEW ELECTRONIKS!!!!11
Navel Gaze will go here.

January 1, 2008 - It's Buffalo. You'd Be Excited Too.
   On Dick Clark: Admittedly, I should know better than to view public opinion as anything more than a comedy routine, made better by the blissful ignorance of the participants. Yet I don't.

   Annually, Dick Clark's slur-laden return to TV for New Year's makes people wish he'd just go away. Which is funny.

   Most of them will have forgotten they ever saw him again the following day.

   • There was something immediately heart-warming and tinged by sadness in the NHL Winter Classic.

   First, the obvious. I have never seen anything so awesome.

NHL Winter Classic
-- Toque! Toque! Toque! Toque!

NHL Winter Classic

NHL Winter Classic

NHL Winter Classic
-- I would quietly pay $140 for a baby blue Penguins jersey,
but I won't only out of the thrill of the hunt.

   I watched it in bed with Julie, where she pretty much spent the whole day for non-booze headache reasons. Just the day earlier, one of my coworkers asked me (when I put the Bruins-Thrashers game on), "Dude, why do you like hockey so much?"

   He wasn't watching, I'm sure. His loss.

   The sadness? Never mind the 11,000-plus who watched the game from Buffalo's regular arena on top of the 73,000-plus outside ... if the Bruins staged one of these games, they'd probably have trouble selling out anything bigger than Fenway Park.

   Which they actually might push to attempt, if given the opportunity.

2007: [12] - [11] - [10] - [09] - [08] - [07] - [06] - [05] - [04] - [03] - [02] - [01]
2006: [12] - [11] - [10] - [09] - [08] - [07] - [06] - [05] - [04] - [03] - [02] - [01]
2005: [12] - [11] - [10] - [09] - [08] - [07] - [06] - [05] - [04] - [03] - [02] - [01]
2004: [12] - [11] - [10] - [09] - [08] - [07] - [06] - [05] - [04] - [03] - [02] - [01]
2003: [12] - [11] - [10] - [09] - [08] - [07] - [06] - [05] - [04] - [03] - [02] - [01]
2002: [12] - [11] - [10] - [09] - [08] - [07] - [06] - [05] - [04] - [03] - [02] - [01]
2001: [12] - [11] - [10] - [09] - [08] - [07] - [06] - [05]