connecticut

We Literally Swear to Tell the Truth

people-who-use-a-lot-of-swear-wordsFor reasons I can only assume have to do with our current President, researchers are suddenly interested in how profanity relates to honesty. As such, researchers have found that Nutmeggers swear more than the rest of America, and we also have more integrity than our fellow citizens. This should be good news for Governor Porcupine, who could make a sailor blush.

How would anyone measure this, you ask? Facebook! (more…)

Hartford Has a Rat Problem. Blame Chickens.

img_0396copyMany years ago I was rushing from a friend’s Hartford apartment to the car on a cold winter night. I tripped a little, and assumed I’d hit a bump in the sidewalk with the toe of my shoe. But my friend, who was walking behind me, yelled, “Oh my God. A rat!” Yes, dear readers, a rat had run between my feet as I was jogging to the car, and I’d unwittingly kicked the little guy. At this point I screeched, broke out into a full out run, and started scratching at the car door! I had to get out of there, and go home and shower for hours.

Then I spent years in New York City where rats are like furtive little squirrels. You see them hanging out on the train tracks, and they scare the bejesus out of you when you’re sitting in the park and you see one scurry into a tree grate out of the corner of your eye. This is all to say, I thought I was used to rats.

This summer proved me wrong. I was digging around in a friend’s West End basement looking for painting supplies. Just as she finished saying the words, “My neighbor says there’s been a rat down here…” we heard the tell tale squeak of a frightened rat. I turned on a dime and sprang up the basement stairs, and then up another flight of stairs to her apartment. Somewhere in there I hit my hand on something and scratched it all to hell. It’s a miracle I’m not dead. (more…)

How I (Almost) Killed Miss Patty

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Newbury Place, a super cute little shop

By virtue of some sort of miracle–or serious mistake that will cost someone their job–we managed to get press passes to the event of the season: The Gilmore Girls Fan Fest. While we were absolutely sure this festival was a work of literal genius, we didn’t know what to expect–especially when the notorious New England weather went from sunny and 80 degrees to rainy and cold, just in time for the festival. Nonetheless, the AP and I dragged ourselves out of bed early on Saturday morning, loaded into one of our beloved Subarus, and headed out to Washington Depot.

It took us a while to figure out the lay of the land, find “the old town garage”–otherwise known as a dirt lot–where we were supposed to park, and the press check-in area. But once we got our wits about us, we were off to the races. Most of the action was located in the town’s small center, where the sweet little Hickory Stick bookshop, Marty’s Cafe, Newbury Place, and the Washington Food Market account for most of the action. But on this particular day, there were local merchants handing out hot cider, food trucks, and big white tents housing screenings, animal adoption events, and knit-a-thons (which will make sense to Gilmore fans). (more…)

Do You Care What a RV Dealer Thinks About #BlackLivesMatter?

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Way cooler than any RV. 

Have you driven North out of Hartford on 91 lately? Have you noticed the Long View RV jumbotron sign? Well, I have, and it’s really sticking in my craw.

As late as Thursday morning the electronic sign outside the RV dealer, and directly on the side of 91 North, said “All Lives Matter” and something like “Bring America Together.” I actually had to check my rear view mirror to see if I had misread the sign because, Why would a RV dealer be weighing in on politics and the news of the day on a billboard? It makes about as much sense as a failed businessman and trashy reality star running for President of the United States.  (more…)

An Open Letter to the Gilmore Guys

qbvnui3aDear Demi and Kevin (aka Gilmore Guys),

I just finished driving from Hartford to New Haven and back again while listening to your take on “Introducing Lorelai Planetarium,” and all about how much you loved Boston. I couldn’t help but feel a little twinge as I realized that you will probably never do a live show here in Connecticut. Frankly, fellas, this seems like an oversight on your part.

Now, I realize you can’t visit every tiny city with a civic center, but it seems to me that Connecticut’s cities deserve special consideration. This is the place that the Gilmores call home. Richard and Emily probably lived on Scarborough Street in Hartford, and somewhere there is a guy sitting under a tree in New Haven just waiting for Rory to come and pay him to leave. And somewhere out in the Northwest corner of the state, there’s a Miss Patty waiting to sexually harass two young gentlemen with a podcast. So, I’m here to make a case for us.

Consider for a moment, a dark alternate reality in which Amy Sherman Palladino had never visited the Mayflower Inn and startled the sedate town folk with her hats. There would be no Gilmore Girls if she hadn’t left New York City and headed to the wilds of Litchfield County to get a massage and cucumber water. That, my friends, is a world not worth living in. That is a bleak hellscape that even Tom Hardy could not survive in.

It seems pretty reasonable to assume that a trip to Connecticut might inspire the same creative genius in you.

Now, let’s assume that a science museum and an unfinished minor-league baseball stadium don’t interest you. Hartford still has plenty to offer a couple of single guys on the prowl. You can spend the day at the Mark Twain House and the Wadsworth Atheneum. After the show you can get dinner at Bear’s Smoke House, and then drown your sorrows at one of our many bars filled with Deans.

If none of that catches your attention, there’s always New Haven. You can wander the hallowed halls of Yale, see the largest collection of British art outside of the U.K. for free, get the best falafel in the state at Kasbah, and then party at one of our many bars filled with Logans.

If our immensely rich culture and history don’t interest you, well, I guess you could visit Bridgeport.

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We have theaters and venues that vary in size:

I know that your other concern might be finding a guest for the show. You might think Connecticut’s comedy talent pool is limited…and you’re right. Basically we have one suggestion: Gilly-loving actress, comedian, and Hartford resident Carolyn Paine. But if she can’t do it, I’d be happy to fill in. I’m basically Rory, and I could totes bring my Lane… and we both have radio experience.

It seems a damn shame to let the entire series go by and never come visit the state that helped inspire it. Think of it this way: Even if you hate it here, you’re just a short train ride away from New York and/or Boston.

Sincerely,

The Anti-Couric

 

 

 

American Idiots (in Enfield)

Apparently Enfield High School had to cancel its production of American Idiot because there are still parents out there who think their teenagers are not completely depraved monsters. Because I am too poor to attend Broadway musicals, I’ve never seen the show. Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about its subject matter:

The story, expanded from that of the concept album, centers on three disaffected young men, Johnny, Will, and Tunny. Johnny and Tunny flee a stifling suburban lifestyle and parental restrictions, while Will stays home to work out his relationship with his pregnant girlfriend, Heather. The former pair look for meaning in life and try out the freedom and excitement of the city. Tunny quickly gives up on life in the city, joins the military, and is shipped off to war. Johnny turns to drugs and finds a part of himself that he grows to dislike, has a relationship and experiences lost love.

It’s almost laughable to think that any Broadway musical is too risque for the high school crowd, but it’s even more ridiculous that one that deals so directly with the issues affecting them would be deemed unacceptable…even after they reworked it to be more “suitable.”  (more…)