“You know, I noticed something … there are a lot of pumpkins here.”

The title to this entry? Stated by Jacob, 4 1/2, after around 2 hours at the Keene, N.H. Pumpkin Festival. He definitely has his old man's keen observational skills. Some observations:

Man, that was a lot of pumpkins. But it was more than 7,000 short of the event's world record, which led us to believe that the poor economy has people eating pumpkins, burning them for fuel or using them for shelter rather than decorating them and trekking to Keene, N.H.

Probably no need to get there at 11:15 a.m. if your goal, with two kids in tow, is to make it to the fireworks at 8:30 p.m. (We didn't make it.) Also, don't book a room 45 minutes away if it takes you 45 minutes further away from home the next morning. That said, the weather was amazing today and we took secondary roads for the trek home, which was really nice. And we got 30.3 MPG. Take that, Big Oil!

We convinced a guy who was carving one of the signature huge pumpkins to make his into the iconic "Man on the Mountain" N.H. state logo. I thought it was cool although a lot of people couldn't tell what it was.

Keene's Turn It Up! record store is very cool. Picked up Lucinda Williams' newest album, even though I don't really buy CDs any more. I enjoyed the browsing process so much that it was worth the $3 or so surcharge over what iTunes would have cost. I miss record stores. *Sigh*.

The Colonial Theatre in Keene was showing free cartoons all day. Jacob freaked out and wouldn't go in with me but I got to see around 45 seconds of my third-favorite cartoon of all time, the wacky, surreal Duck Amuck. "This is a closeup?!?!"

I suck at seed spitting.

I posted photos to Facebook and to Flickr. Can't decide if I should just standardize on Facebook (which allows me to share with people both on and off of Facebook).

My two cents

I f you don’t receive a Christmas card from me, and you usually do, it’s likely due to the fact that I mailed a huge batch of them yesterday with 39 cent stamps. No wonder I had such a huge roll of them in my desk. Will the USPS be spiteful enough to return them all to me for 2 cents? If they come back and I have to re-mail them, do I just need a 2-cent stamp, or a new 41-cent stamp?

Stupid things I enjoy … First in a series

Each day, when walking past the guy dressed as a giant salad outside of Sebastian’s restaurant on Main Street in Kendall Square, saying "What up, Giant Salad?" to him, and having him respond, "Not too much."

Add the extra “f” for “fasvings”

If you were bothered by the name Jhonny Peralta, may I please introduce Kimani Ffriend, recently waived by the Los Angeles Clippers.

Take that, Wally Pipp

A few of my more Ripkenesque streaks:

• Consecutive loads of laundry during which I bonked my head on the low pipes that hang between our washer and dryer — 68 (current);
• Consecutive times which, in passing the Sheraton Tara at Exit 12 on the Mass Pike in Framingham, I comment to Juliet, "I had my prom there, in that castle hotel" — 138 (dating back to 1996)
• Consecutive number of "Take a Penny, Leave a Penny" cups in which I have left pennies, as I am illogically afraid of what might happen to me if I don’t — 1,184 (current)
• Consecutive days in which I haven’t called back the dry cleaner to find out what happened to my lost suit — 4 (current)
• Consecutive days in which I have eschewed carbs in an effort to lose weight — 1.5 (tie; many, many times)
• Consecutive years I have not been named People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive — 23 (current)
• Consecutive times in which when someone, in an effort to make polite conversation upon first meeting me, will notice my height and ask me if I play basketball — 7,458 (current)
• Consecutive years without dunking a basketball (on a regulation hoop with a regulation men’s ball) since my last successful attempt (1996, Sligo Creek Park courts, Kensington, Md.) — 11 (current)

Reppin’ 508

Some highlights from our active day yesterday out in Central Mass under crystal-clear sunny skies on a wonderful example of Indigenous Peoples’ Summer:

• Using the new 146 Connector between the Mass Pike and I-290, finally providing a direct link between Boston and Worcester via Interstate highway without all sorts of backtracking. I always found it odd that Springfield gets 3 Pike exits, Wormtown none, but I digress.
• An excellent brunch with many old friends (4 couples and, let’s see, 8 kids, wow) and lots of great food at Chez Lindberg-Paradiso in Worcester. Hard to believe that friendships bourne of the fact that no one else would hang out with the 4 of us in high school still go strong today. Among topics of discussion: 1) It’s not smart to tell your female spouse that, in re: to childbirth, "Honey, if I could carry the child for you, I would," because should they ever invent time travel and the technology to allow men to carry children, you’d be screwed; 2) Yes, Tintin au Congo appears to be pretty racist, even given the excuses offered up for the time in which it was written; and 3) An update on Tammy and Family’s efforts regarding the Eat Local Challenge;
• Some wholesome apple picking and goat-watching with my folks at Tougas Farm in Northborough; try the galas, you won’t be disappointed.

Got back late, put the boys to bed and blazed through the recording of the Pats clobbering the hapless Buffalo Bills while cranking out an analyst presentation. Yay Sunday night.

617 in tha house

Apropos of nothing to do with the hideous Michael Vick situation, I read somewhere that his ne’er-do-well brother Marcus had 757 tattooed on his arm to represent Newport News, his home. Which got me to thinking — what if they overlay a new area code over 757? Does he have to get a new tattoo? Or will he keep it real with a throwback 757 phone number?

The whole overlay concept makes me feel old. When I was a kid, Massachusetts had two area codes — 413 for Western Mass., and 617 for the rest of the state. Then 617 was split into 617 and 508, which marked the debut of New England Telephone’s catchy "July 16 is the date, when Worcester goes to 508" slogan. Now there’s a slew of others — 617 was split again into 617 and 781; 781 added the 339 overlay. And then 617 added the 857 overlay (The WordNerd was the first person I met to score an 857 number).

Back when area codes only went up to X19 (219, 319, 419, etc.) I used to have a RainMan-like ability to identify area codes ("302?" "Deleware!") … not unlike my RainMan-like ability to memorize WordPerfect 5.1 commands ("Print?" "Shift-F7!").

I am told I had memorized the license plates of all of my neighbor’s cars when I was 5. Which is funny, given that I couldn’t tell you the license plate on my current wheels.

Smug Alert!

The title is a reference to the South Park episode in which everyone bought hybrid cars, and there was an increase in the emission of smug. Anyhoo, I leased a Nissan Altima Hybrid last night. I fully expect to get 80 MPG or I am going to sue the pants off of Nissan. It’s a really sharp car, pretty fun to drive, lots of cup holders, safe, etc. And it’s a hybrid, but it’s a subtle one.

Now that I own a hybrid, perhaps now I won’t be pelted with animal blood when I drive in the Berkshires. The towns of Great Barrington and Monterrey have more Priuses-per-capita than the Whole Foods at Fresh Pond has berets per capita (seriously, there was a time when I saw different men wearing berets on four straight trips to that store; I’m pretty sure that actually happened).

For kicks, here’s the list of cars for which I have been primary driver (so I’m not including Juliet’s Sentra, Golf or very girly Jetta):

1981 Chevrolet Malibu — purchased my senior year in high school; after an unfortunate rear-ending (the car, not me) by Mark Hickenbottom, the crunched car got a snazzy new black EuroSport grille. It was white with a blue vinyl roof and had a tape deck that only had FF, no REW. Meaning to REW, you had to turn the tape over, press FF, turn the tape back and hope you went the right amount of tape.

1981 Chevrolet Malibu — fool me twice, shame on me; right out of college, bought it for $400 from my co-worker’s husband; I didn’t even have the $400 to buy it, let alone the $1,600 to get it to pass stringent Maryland inspections … then the transmission went six-months later. This one was brown, and the cloth on the interior roof was secured with around 200 staples. And I gashed my thumb removing an “EAT MARTHA’S MUSCLES” bumper sticker, requiring me to get stitches at a time when I didn’t have health insurance (the cost, $600; the experience of getting calls from the hospital’s debt collection service, priceless). You’ll get yours, Mitch.

1991 Nissan Sentra — Wow, you’re giving me a car loan at only 24 percent? Sign me up!

1997 Honda Accord — First new car I ever owned. Drove it for 7 years, 100,000 miles although I clearly could have gotten another 100,000 miles on it. But then I got all pretentious and bought a …

2004 Saab 9-5 — I always wanted a Saab, so I lived the dream. I thought it was a sharp car and the turbo kicked out 240 hp. And owning a Saab was just quirky enough. I guess along with quirky comes reliability issues. Also, it’s been in some 4 accidents; 2 my fault, 2 the fault of others. I am mad at the car, but that’s the same folly as the Abominable Snowman wanting his money back for a kite that he badly neglected (“and then it got stuck in a tree and I left it out in the rain and then a truck ran over it.”.). Sadly, YouTube doesn’t have that one online; d’Bri gave me the idea to post about the death of the great PSAs of the 1970s and 1980s — look for that forthcoming entry in the near term.

In Mexico he is Senor Spindle

I learned a new word this weekend — I had always just assumed they were called "bannister balls," but the big ornamental thingies on railings, bedposts or other structures are called "finials." (Image courtesy of MrSpindle.com)

I just …

… stirred my coffee with scissors because I didn’t want to get up and get a spoon. And then I blogged about it. I could have gotten 5 spoons (short of Alanis’ ironic 10,000) in the time it took me to log on and write this. That’s not good.