In the name of all that is unholy… my prayers have been answered — by Peter Marteka of all people. We all know that I love cryptic creatures, especially the Glawackus. Unfortunately, the article does not mention my completely scientific conclusion that the Glawackus was a Fisher.
We don’t usually bother talking about press conferences…because they’re boring. But this…THIS!
While Tom Foley is pontificating this is just a run of the mill, boring as shit press conference, but then things get good when employees take him to task for being an uniformed blowhard.
As Colin McEnroe likes to remind us, we are rapidly aging. This is true. As part of this aging process, I had a baby in February and dammit, it was one hell of an adventure. However, we would not have gotten through it without Hartford Hospital and Connecticut Children’s Medical Center (CCMC). Let’s be honest, hospitals are genuinely crappy places and no one wants to be in one. However, I want to share my great experiences because I feel extremely fortunate.
Back in January, I slipped on ice in a parking lot and fell while I was six months pregnant. I know, totally brilliant. I went to the Hartford Hospital Emergency Room where I was given amazing care. There was no delay getting me in a room to check the baby, who was, mercifully, fine.
I had to go through a bunch of x-rays and the techs were not only happy and hilarious but they took so much care to pile lots of heavy gown things on me to make sure that the baby didn’t get radiated. While we were there for several hours, the staff was remarkable. Comforting, upbeat, and professional. There was a really irate, demanding and seemingly impossible older woman in the room next to ours that kept yelling out and screaming at nurses and patient assistants. I think we even heard a racial slur against one, but even then, staff maintained their cool.
The day after I went to see Jaws! in the park, I headed to two very different but equally entertaining events. The Farmer saw a listing for Hartford’s Festival of India in the newspaper, and it promised free snacks and a chariot parade, so obviously we went. And then, when we were done, we took a tour of Mapleleaf Farm in Hebron.
The Festival of India was not quite what we’d expected. There was a smattering of tents, most of which were trying to sell the Bhagavad Gita in one way or another. There was also a vegetarian tent that tells you all about how your meat is poisoned with “pain toxins.” They were kind of preaching to the choir with us on that one, but even I found some of their claims a bit dubious. There was a “Questions & Answers” tent with nothing but an empty chair in it. We assumed this was an existential statement — or an unmanned Information Tent.
To our chagrin the free food tent was not open yet, so we were reduced to paying $8 for our delicious food at another tent. The chariot parade turned out to be a crapload of people pulling one chariot.
The chariot itself was pretty cool, though, complete with a cow balloon. The thing that we found most confusing about the festival was the emphasis on Hare Krishna, including the constant playing of a chant that is kind of calming/infuriating–but I also suspect it of brainwashing me, just like it did to Chion Wolf’s brother. (more…)
Call it poor timing. This week’s hullabaloo around Hillary Clinton’s speaking fee for an April appearance at UConn is unfortunate in light of tuition increases. It also has me wanting to sit you all down and give you a lesson in Fundraising 101. So sit down…
Yes, $250,000 is a ton of money, but it’s the going rate for a Clinton. Actually, I’m sort of hoping Hillary gets more than Bill because of that whole glass ceiling thing. It’s called a speaking fee. Just about every famous person has one, unless they are donating their appearance.
This brings us to donations. Donations can be categorized as “unrestricted” and “restricted.” As you might guess, unrestricted funds can be used for whatever the organization deems necessary from paying for programs to salaries to fixing the toilet. These dollars are the most helpful and what most people give. (more…)
One of the main reasons I started this blog so many years ago was to prove that anyone who claims Connecticut is boring is wrong. Or, if I’m feeling less generous, that those people are themselves boring. Lately, I’ve felt vindicated because I’ve been doing so many fun and diverse things that I hardly have time to write about them. For instance, a couple weeks ago, I convinced the Asian Persuasion and the Pilot to drag their newborn out into the hot summer night to attend one of Hartford’s Free Movies After Dark.
I always like free stuff, but I especially like free stuff when my cat is sick and I am bleeding money to deal with feline gallstones. GALLSTONES!!!!!! So when I realized I could see a movie in a park after dark for free, I was all about it.
We happened to see Jaws! Like any red blooded American, I saw this movie a bunch of times as a kid–though some of those times were probably actually the sequels. But I haven’t seen this piece of cinematic genius (at least according to one Dawson Leary) in a very long time, so I was totally pumped. Plus, I can’t think of a better summer movie. (more…)
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: The Mark Twain House puts on some of the best events in Hartford. For a long time I’ve been trying to get to “The Mouth” — a Moth-like storytelling event — but it seemed that I was doomed to an eternity of being out of town during each event. Then “Fame and the Fame(ish)” came up and my heart did a little flip-flop when I realized I could go. And I feel like I probably lucked out by being able to go to this one.
Fellow Nose-panelist Rand Cooper kicked off the night with his story about an encounter with Grace Kelly in a frat house. It involved a water bed, but not in a dirty way…or at least not in a hot/dirty way, but maybe in an actually unhygienic way. Rand is quite the storyteller, even on an impromptu basis, so it was a good one.
But the real highlight of the night was a story from Paul Marcarelli, a director and screenwriter who will forever be known to you and Julie Andrews as the “Can You Hear Me Now?” guy. (more…)
For a while now I’ve been hearing about Under the Strawberry Moon, a festival in Glastonbury that is basically a “Taste of Glastonbury” with a fancier name. But as per usual, I’d forgotten about it until I drove through downtown Glastonbury and saw the tents going up. My boyfriend, The Farmer, was planning on heading out to his farm later that day so I started looking for people to accompany me. No-takers. My mom seemed incapable of understanding what it was. She thought it was a Strawberry Festival, but it wasn’t.
Luckily, The Farmer is one of those guys who actually likes to do things, so he decided to hang around a little while longer so we could head to the festival. Oh, and in case you were wondering, according to The Farmer’s Almanac, “The month of June’s full Moon’s name is the Full Strawberry Moon. June’s Full Strawberry Moon got its name because the Algonquin tribes knew it as a signal to gather ripening fruit.” (more…)