The Office Fridge: When Coworkers Lose It

One of my favorite new hobbies is photographing mean signs coworkers make for each other. You know, those signs about messy fridges and bathrooms? I cannot reveal where these signs are from, but I'll just tell you they are from the refrigerator in a local workplace. I especially love the literary touch that this anonymous sign-maker uses by including full newspaper columns to communicate just how disgusted they are by their coworkers' slovenliness.






Two more signs after the jump.






Coming up: signs I've found in bathrooms. Click here to read more.

Funny Article

What a great article from the Stamford Advocate online. (Might not be so funny if you know the guy.) I'll format it later. Here's the headline:

Cops: Naked man tossed $9,271 into river

And the article:
STRATFORD -- A 62-year-old Bridgeport man was committed for psychiatric evaluation after police found him naked throwing thousands of dollars into the marsh near the grounds of the Shakespeare theater.

Police responded to a resident complaint that a nude man with a goatee was throwing rocks at his dog on the theater grounds around 12:28 p.m. Tuesday.

When police arrived on the scene, the man ran along Shore Road and jumped into the marshland of the Housatonic River, according to Police Capt. Kenneth Bakalar. He then began throwing hundreds of bills into the water around him, Bakalar said.

Police fished out $9,271 of what appears to be the man's own money, Bakalar said.

Later, when asked why he was nude, the man stated a tornado had blown off his clothes, police said.

The man was then committed to St. Vincent's Medical Center in Bridgeport for evaluation.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Click here to read more.

Sports in Small Spaces

See this worn patch of grass in front of this apartment building?

It’s worn because the dudes who live there use it for sport.

The building is on the busy corner of Forest and Strawberry Hill, and the patch of grass is on Forest.

Once, I passed by and two of them had out a football. I wanted to take a photo but my husband for some reason wouldn’t let me.
He said that one time, he passed by and they were playing beer pong.
Beer pong, I can see, but I was curious what type of football they were going to be able to do in such a small area.

In any case, I think it’s great they are making the most of their outdoor space.
Be sure to be on the lookout for these guys, and let me know what sport you see them try next!
Bowling maybe? Bocce? Click here to read more.

Greenwich: Golf 'n Gay Marriage

Thank you to Chris of Lunch Break Chronicles for pointing out this article about Greenwich that reinforces every stereotype of Greenwich that you can think of.
Evidently the Brunswick (all boys private school) golf team was going to be late for their match on Fisher's Island, NY because of a deadly accident on 95. So, of course, one of the kids' dads produced a charter plane in a jiff. Now, I have to tell you; I teach in Greenwich, and the kids I teach are lovely. That's why these little news items about Greenwich don't bug me; I know they are bizarre exceptions. Most people in Greenwich are normal Joes; they just happen to have really well-paying jobs that allow them to afford homes there. And the kids are just regular kids... who go on way nicer vacations than most people. I pretty much unabashedly love Greenwich.
I threw in the "Gay Marriage" part of the post title because of the alliteration, and the oddity that Greenwich is becoming known not just for wealth, but for being a same sex wedding destination. With CT legalizing gay marriage, Greenwich is the closest place to NYC, and no doubt has some great places for receptions!
Read more if you want to hear more about the golf outing. There are some funny lines. No adults would be quoted for the article; I wonder if they realized how high-falutin' this article was going to make them seem.

From the Advocate:
"We were going to have to bag it. It would have been a bummer. I just called my dad. He has a friend who has a couple of puddle-jumper planes," said Conor Kenny, 18, the team's senior captain.
Messages seeking comment from Jim Stephens, the assistant coach who went on the flight, were left at his home and office. Efforts to reach Anthony Fischetti, the team's head coach, were unsuccessful. Tim Ostrye, the school's athletic director, declined to comment about the flight.
Kenny said he didn't know how much the flight cost his dad, who is a bond salesman, but said that it wasn't that much because his dad knows the charter company owner.
"(My dad) assured Mr. Stephens it was not outrageously expensive," Kenny said. "He just kind of saved the day."
Kenny's father, Michael, could not be reached for comment Friday. His wife said he was playing golf.

Hee hee! You just have to giggle at that last line. Click here to read more.

Mobile Snowman Shops at Stamford Mall

OK, so the mobile snowman was spotted at the MALL today! How did he get the day off work to go shopping is my question. Thanks to reader RN who sent in this photo! You'll note the snowman is dressed a lot fancier than he was on Friday night, when my friend spotted him nearly nude off exit 9. He must be heading out to a party tonight.

In the interest of public safety, I'm going to assume that the cold weather makes the snowman unmeltable, and that the snowman's driver is a professional snow sculptor who knows how to make unknockdown-able structures. Because if I were say, walking on a sidewalk, and that truck turned the corner and fell on me, I'd be mad. I do not mean to rain on, and melt, that snowman's parade... but I'm into safety, OK? Click here to read more.

Funny Photo of Stamford Snowman

My friend took this photo of a snowman riding in the back of truck at a gas station off exit 9. I do not endorse people or snowmen riding in the backs of open vehicles. If for example, that snowman were to take a tumble, I'd be highly pissed if he fell on my windshield.

"Way to rain on that guy's parade!" said my friend when I told her the snow sculpture didn't look very safe. But you have to be careful driving around with crap on top of your car, whether it's a mattress, a Christmas tree, or a couch, you better make sure that thing's not gonna fall off. I'm assuming that snow man was just there for a very short ride, and that the driver drove very slowly, taking the utmost care of the vehicles around him. Because that's the way most people drive in the snow, even if a few punks do go too fast.

I will admit, it's a very clever way to have fun with the snow. The funnest thing I did with the snow was to take some pics of the dog "playing" in it (my hound does not really play) to email to my nephews in mostly snowless Mississippi. Click here to read more.

Have You Seen My Shia LaBeouf in Stamford?

I can't shake a strange encounter that happened to me at the Stamford train station last week. Two quick notes to set up the story:

1. I spent all spring tracking down movie sets in Stamford, but recently filming has stopped because of a potential actors' strike. I've been really bummed out, because I had been getting very good at worming my way onto film sets.
2. In May, I wormed my way, through diligence and charm, onto a set at the Stamford train station. Major luck was also involved: my mom's train was late, so I was typing on my laptop in the waiting room. I could tell there were film people around- I saw crew passes on black lanyards around their necks- but they were darting into elevators and I wasn't in the mood to chase them around. Then, I glanced up and saw the location manager that I'd met when I visited a set in North Stamford. I shouted his name and reintroduced myself. He begrudgingly let me watch DeNiro do a few scenes at the bus terminal outside the station.

That all leads to why I thought I saw the star of Transformers and the most recent Indiana Jones movie at the Stamford train station last week.

I was sitting in the waiting room, about to catch a train into the city. I was poking around on my iPhone when I glanced up and saw a person with a black lanyard around his neck walking toward me- and he had Shia LaBeouf’s face.

Granted, he also had long wavy hair past his shoulders, so part of me had a good clue it wasn't really Shia- but another more imaginative part of me hoped I might be looking at Shia LaBeouf in a wig.

My brain froze, and I was stuck in a loop of thought: I was trying to determine if that was Shia (I saw DeNiro there, why not Shia?), and if it wasn't Shia, if he was a film person. He was wearing a black shirt and jeans like the film crews always wear. Even though I quickly realized it wasn't a lanyard around his neck- it was a phone earpiece wire- my brain still refused to believe it was not Shia.

As I was staring, he was looking back at me, but I was so busy thinking that I didn't have the sense to look away. As he was just about to pass me, he said, "Hi." Because I was totally staring at him in an unblinking, stunned way.

"Hi," I said back, unable to wipe the confused look off my face. He gave me an "Okaaaay..." look and kept walking, and then kind of glanced back at me. I think he was expecting me to say something else.

I felt so stupid for staring at this person, but he literally had the face of one of today’s most popular young actors. He must get told that all the time. I only believe it wasn't Shia because no one mobbed him. I watched him walk out of the station and down the elevator, and no one else stared at him, so my brain was finally able to conclude that it was a case of mistaken identity.

When Shia LaBeouf got arrested a few days ago for DUI, I kept seeing his face on the web and thinking of my faux-sighting. I needed to write about it so I can stop thinking about it.

Also, I was hoping someone knows who this faux-Shia is, and can have him meet me at Starbucks, so I can get a good long look at him, and compare his face to the real Shia. I MUST FIND THIS PERSON. Just because. No real reason. Just because it’s interesting. And kind of a mystery to solve.

For some reason, blogger won't let me upload photos tonight, but I'll try to get a pic up of Shia in this post tomorrow. For now, click here for google image results. Cool, it finally worked today 8/5.
Click here to read more.

Sculptor J. Seward Johnson Judges Marilyn Contest

Dudes, I am so breaking this story! There was media everywhere at the Marilyn contest- J. Seward Johnson was one of the judges- but I’m putting it up first, because I’m competitive like that.

The contest, in honor of Stamford Downtown's outdoor exhibit of JSJ's sculptures, was hilarious- see all pics at my flickr site. I got to meet and see some of Stamford’s glitterati: the SDSSD staff including their cool bloggers, the head of Keep Stamford Beautiful, a guy on the board at the Avon Theatre, and... the sculptor himself!

A friend’s husband peer pressured me into saying hi to J. Seward Johnson. I do not like to bother celebs, but he said JSJ is really nice and likes talking to people. On the way out, I happened to pass JSJ just as he finished signing a Marilyn’s book, so I said, “Hi, I have a website about Stamford, and I have a silly question. Do you have a message for Stamford?”

JSJ actually took some time to think, and he looked me in the eye and said something to the effect of, “Stamford is going places. There are many sides of it, and every time I come, I see a different side.”

Cool.

Sandy Goldstein, head of SDSSD, said she was proud of us for coming, and proud of the Marilyns... I am too. Life can be so shittily dull, and we’ve got to spice it up by putting on wigs, drinking wine, and taking pictures of each other.

GO SDSSD and Avon, for putting on this cool event! Now I’m expecting more amazing ones... please!

I regret that I left too soon to get a photo of the winning Marilyn, in fuchsia satin, petting a white pit bull. Dammit!!! I saw the shot as I drove by the Avon on the way home. I am sure someone else got it. News 12 was there, a photographer for SDSSD, and a guy doing a documentary on JSJ.

Here all the judges, Marilyns, and important people who made the event/exhibit happen:



Click here to read more.

Let the Statue Parade Hi-Jinx Begin!

I was downtown today for the first time since the human statues went up, and I was not disappointed. Driving up Atlantic, I was thrilled to see a statue of a little girl swinging on a stop sign who looks like she might fall into the road. That's gonna fool some people and give them a scare, and that's my favorite part of the human statue parade. I love having my mind messed with; I love a shot of drama on a hum-drum drive around town. (No, Trump Crane, that's not a hint for you to mess with me by tossing chunks of metal down at me. Stay the F away from me.)

Outside the Ferg, I saw my first instance of people playing jokes with statues. A man crouched behind the statue of the guy with the camera, made bunny ears, then sprinted back across the busy intersection to a large crowd of his laughing friends! Yes! Mayhem! Danger! Statue Parade, you rock!

Downtown again later today, at the same Ferguson intersection, I saw a person sitting on a bench who I was sure was fake. Nope, he was real. A moment later, on my green light, five people jaywalked right in front of me by the camera guy. I actually honked at them because they were ambling and sipping sodas as if they were at a carnival, rather than jaywalking in one of the busiest intersections in the city. I swear, with the line between fake and real being so blurred, pedestrians feel they can do whatever they want. I like this element of chaos even though it's annoying.

I passed the Marilyn Monroe statue outside the Avon Theatre. Don't forget the Marilyn Monroe Look-Alike Contest Tuesday, June 10. Round up your friends, talk a few of them into wearing a halter dress and a blond wig, and meet at Capriccio at 530 for dinner and drinks. Pre-contest party at the Avon at 615, contest at 7, then a showing of the movie Some Like It Hot. Only complicated thing: you have to submit a contest application by June 4, but you can do it online. Go to the Stamford Downtown website, click "Event Calendar", and scroll down. I think there is a singing portion of the competition, so it's pretty involved, but there are cash prizes! I'm going to try to get some friends to do it. I have one friend who I think might do well.

As I left the downtown area, a banner announced the Live at Five Thursday concerts coming up. Stamford, I feel you gearing up! I'm hearing non-residents talk about the concerts, and Stamford, we are getting so famous!

Related Stamford Talk Posts:

--March 27, 2008- "Human Life-Sized Art Downtown," in which I tell you why the human statues are too much for me to handle.

--May 26, 2008- "Stamford, NYC, Trump's Looming Cranes," in which Stamford residents weigh in on our very own Crane of Danger.

--May 23, 2008- "Falling Metal at the Trump Parc Site: I'm Angry," in which our very own crane finally attacks

--April 5, 2008- Sat AM: "Looming Crane and Road Closings," in which I take another swipe at the crane

--December 6, 2007- "Target Under Attack by Trump Parc?" in which I first bring up the possible danger of the Stamford crane


This guy on the bench is the one I thought was a statue, because he was sitting very still, and his skin tone looked a little odd, just like the statues.
Click here to read more.

Girly Day in Stamford: Zen Spa and Nails

I don't want to be mean, but I have this line in my head and I need to say it: Zen Spa and Nails forces you to be Zen because they are so slow. You have to try really hard not to get impatient. My manicurist, sweet as she was, was going so slowly that I couldn't even watch. I closed my eyes, tried to slow my brain, and let my thoughts wander. ZSN is a new place in the Bull's Head shopping center that does waxes, chair massages, and mani/pedis. The good news: it was relaxing. ZSN is pretty and quiet, and the staff is nice. I got lots of massage time, and my nails turned out fabulous. I kicked off my girly day by getting the glorious blue nails I'd been fantasizing about.

The other three women there were not having any zen, and they didn't try to hide it:

Woman 1: How long will a manicure and pedicure take?
--Manicurist (in friendly voice): Twenty minutes?
W1: Really twenty minutes?
--Uh- (manicurist is confused)
W1: I mean, is it really only twenty minutes? Because I have to pick up my daughter at dance class at 12:30, and I can't be late.
--Ah yes, just twenty minutes.
W1 pauses, seeming irritated: OK, fine. I'll get a manicure pedicure.

Twenty minutes later... as my nails are still being groomed and trimmed, she's just finishing her mani and hasn't started on the pedi.

W1: You know what? Is this going to be done soon?
--Yes. Just a few more minutes.
W2: Because, I have to go pick up my daughter. It's just next door. I'll be right back. (She bolts out the door.)

Woman 2 walks in and asks for a pedicure.
--Manicure, too?
W2: No. I never get manicures.
--OK, right this way. (Man in apron comes over.)
W2: Oh. (Total dismay) Are you going to do it? (Man smiles and nods.) Ah- could I have a woman do it?
--Yes, yes. (Man is embarrassed.)
W2: It just makes me feel weird.

(I am all about sticking up for oneself, but this woman could have done it a lot more nicely.)

Woman 3 walks in.
--Manicure?
W3: Yes, but is Patricia here?
--Oh, sorry, she's in with a client. Someone else can help you?
W3: No, it has to be Patricia. Should I stay, or should I come back? How long will she be?
--Uh... 40 minutes.
W3: Forty minutes?
--Yes, 40 minutes- maybe, 1:15? 1:30?
W3: 1:15?
--Yes.
W3: 1:15 or 1:30? When should I come back? (All of this in impatient tone of voice.)
--Ah, 1:30, yes, 1:30.

CALM DOWN, PEOPLE!!! What are you doing in Zen spa with all of your bad energy?

I got the blue nails because I love things that are unusual, and I like to stand out. I need a bright world. This pink shirt is another way I announce to the world, "I am a freakin' happy person!" My other girly activities today were reading gossip magazines at Borders, tutoring French for an hour and a half, watching Friday Night Lights, Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy, and eating vegetables. Click here to read more.

Stamford: Immune to Roosters

Sadly, the joyful crowing of a rooster doesn’t translate well to the suburbs.

Today on local radio I heard that some Westport residents are at their wits’ ends because their neighbor refuses to curb his rooster. The report said that Stamford and New Canaan already have restrictions on barnyard animals. That struck me as funny but also sad. What kind of world is it where roosters can't do what they're born to do?

The news report gave no specifics about what those barnyard animal restrictions are. I’m pretty curious, but googling “barnyard animal ordinances stamford ct” produced no info. I’m content to use my imagination.

Coincidentally, I was talking about roosters at 4:45 am last Sunday morning. We were packing for our flight home from Mississippi. My husband, who has never lived outside of a major metro area in his entire life, went out to the car. He came back in, quietly arranged some clothing in a suitcase, and said, matter-of-factly, "I'll have you know, I just heard a rooster crowing... and there was more than one!" His amazement amazed me. Dude, it’s a rooster!

A rooster on vacation is annoying but tolerable. A rooster on the weekend at 7am is more annoying, but it’s a good reminder to get up and get busy. A rooster on a dark winter morning at 6am, however, is a recipe for a mysterious rooster “accident.” A rooster cock-a-doodling while you have friends over for a summer BBQ? That’s embarrassing! You don’t buy in Westport so you can feel like you’re in Kentucky coal country!

I couldn’t find info on the radio station website, but I found an article on Westport Now. Here are some lines, along with my own rooster-savvy commentary:

Residents, who were reluctant to speak on the record about their rooster-owning neighbor, said the rooster has been a problem off and on for at least four years. Did you catch that ridiculous alliteration? This is a sassy writer.

They said they confronted the rooster owner who has repeatedly rebuffed them, and got no relief after complaining to the Planning and Zoning Department... Can you even imagine what those confrontations are like? How do you rebuff people who are complaining about your rooster? What's your comeback?

...The rooster owner moved out several years ago prior to demolishing his house in October 2004 and had a new house built in its place, according to one neighbor. When the man moved back in last fall, he brought the rooster and some chicks that have since grown into hens. Hahaha, not only did the man return with his rambunctious rooster, he brought its children!!!

That would be brilliant if this were a TV show, but this is real life, so this man sounds rude, misanthropic, and out of touch with reality.

Roosters are flamboyantly bonkers, but that's their job. This weekend I saw a single, very large rooster standing regally on a porch. He might have been the type to screech at the sight of a human at 5 am... a human almost out of sight, but not out of rooster-range. You've got to love the Neighborhood Watch. Ain't nobody getting into the neighborhood without that rooster noticing.

People are the problem, not roosters. Click here to read more.

Stamford Talk Field Trip: Cafe Moja

So. I've written a lot about Cafe Moja- drug selling, gunshots, melees with cops. I drove by that place for the 4 years I lived in Southfield. It always looked sketch but I never wanted to judge. Well, a fellow Stamford Talker who lives in Southfield said she had always wondered about that place too. "Happy hour?" she joked. I'm not a big joker, so I took her up on her offer.

I will go almost anywhere if it's going to get me a good story. I've been to a KKK rally, for goodness' sake. (Not as a participant, but as a protester. Let me give the KKK an official Stamford Talk "F You, Get a Life.") That was in Hazard, KY. Long story.  Today, on day 6 of my Mississippi visit, I said to my sister, "I kind of want to go to that taxidermy place, just because I think it would be disgusting."  I'm just wondering, where do the guts go? I tried to get a glimpse of the back of the store as we drove by, but didn't see any hints of gut-filled garbage cans. Oh well.

CM serves West Indian and Southern cuisine.  Even though I thought we'd be the only white women in the joint, I figured it would be fine, because restaurants exist for people to eat at them.  However, when we called to confirm that CM was open, we got the answering machine.  When I had driven by, it looked closed, too, with the blinds down, and more run-down than I'd remembered.  We didn't want to give up that easily since we'd already gotten our minds set on it. 

I suggested we stake the place out and see if there was any activity, and if we determined it was closed, we'd go to Crabshell for a drink.  We staked it out inconspicuously (in the parking spot four feet from the door) for 5 minutes and the place was dead as a deer about to be taxidermied.  "This is ridiculous; let's go to Crabshell.  Wait! Before we go, just pull on the door to see if it's open."  Well, it wasn't, somewhat to our relief.   "We gave it a good faith effort; let's go to Crabshell!"

We had Amstel lights and good conversation at Crabshell. Decent little happy hour group, with the requisite group of young-ish men in button-downs looking sort of cute and talking sort of loudly. Click here to read more.

Human Life-Sized Art Downtown

I am against this project! Bring back the cows!

This line in the Stamford Times was bad news for me: The annual sculpture and photography exhibit, "Art in Public Places," will be on display this summer in the streets of downtown Stamford, featuring life-size sculptures of artist J. Seward Johnson.

I had a disturbing experience with the human statue parade a few years ago. I was driving on Main Street in front of the Ferguson and was startled to see a man in a suit leaning out into traffic... to realize a second later that it was a statue.

What the- don’t they realize we are all distracted drivers? Why place a statue of a businessman who looks like he's in a rush right by a busy street? At least have him turned away from the road, gesticulating to an invisible friend, so no one slams on the brakes because they think he's about to jaywalk.

A few weeks later, in the little park across from the Avon Theatre, I saw a statue of a black man with white albino patches on his face, again leaning into traffic and wearing a business suit. That’s an odd choice for a statue, I thought, but it's cool that the human statue parade has a variety of types of people. Just after I passed the statue, he waved to his friend and crossed the road. Geez Louise. It’s a good thing that person wasn’t banking on me stopping to let him cross, because I would have run him right over.

The line between reality and fantasy is not clear enough in my mind to be able to handle the life-sized people statues. In the past week, a pregnant Angelina Jolie and scenes from Battlestar Galactica Season One have appeared in my dreams. Two months ago, I was dreaming about Sawyer from Lost because I was stressed out that he was stuck in the cage in season three.

For people with overactive imaginations, the human art is not the cute, clever experience it’s meant to be! Let’s bring back the Cow Parade. The colorful cows are more obvious works of art, so no one’s going to mistake them for real animals about to wander into a busy street.

What I do approve of is a photography competition associated with the human statues. See the Downtown Events website for more info and an application. The general idea is to take photos of people in Stamford that are "full body shots of ordinary life and people that reflect Johnson’s Classic series." I can handle photos. They're flat pieces of paper I'm not likely to mistake for real people.


Consider this post your warning to pay more attention when driving in downtown Stamford. Let's just hope they don't place this statue by a road. Click here to read more.

FC Saves Its Drama for Its Mamas

How many times have you been irritated at headlights blinding you as a car rides your ass on 95, or even a side street in Stamford or Greenwich? And how many times does that car turn out to be a Volvo station wagon driven by a woman? If you’ve been in the FC a while, you’re not surprised. This area revolves around women, many of whom are moms.

There’s a stereotype in this area of a blonde driving an SUV who terrorizes parking lots with her mediocre spatial relation skills. I don’t care for stereotypes. I don’t think that way, and neither should you. Keep an open mind: that woman could have brown hair, or be driving a BMW. Either way, watch out.

Most mama drama occurs in the private sphere, but you can get a glimpse of some major drama on the website I Saw Your Nanny. If people think they see a nanny cheating with a husband, they post a description of when and where. The site happens to be run out of Greenwich, a hotspot for FC mama drama. I found the site in October, when my google search for Stamford turned up a lurid nanny sighting at Crabshell. Da-rama!!!

Other mama drama topic: schools. Men don’t care about the test scores and teacher-student ratios of their kids’ elementary school. It’s up to the moms to rampage about that. Sure, the parent websites for saving Toquam are run by men, but the internet is a skewed sample because it’s dominated by men… men that women shamelessly exploit for their computer expertise. Men are but tools in mamas’ dramas.

If you’re out during the day in Stamford, or in any bar in the evening, you might wonder if some of the FC drama involves men. How could it not, with so many of them out and about? Well, watch those men for 5 minutes and you’ll understand that men, without women, are boring. Men don’t provide drama. They don’t act over the top at bars. They don’t wave their diamond-covered hands as they laugh raucously. They just stand there talking and drinking beers. That’s not drama.

That’s not drama… and that’s OK. Someone’s got to be stable and staid, and someone’s got to be an audience for the drama after 7pm. Someone’s got to drive defensively. Someone’s got to administer the websites. Men don’t provide drama, but you know they're secretly glad to be included.


Related Stamford Talk posts:

--I discover the site in "Blog for Paranoid Parents Across the US"

--I find out it's based in Greenwich in "Nanny Craze Hits Stamford"

--I tell you what you already know (men are helpless without women) in "Stamford's Single Women: Where Are You?" Click here to read more.

Spring in Stamford=Illegal ATV Riding

Spring in Stamford means the re-opening of the Stamford Skate Park, buying your $20 Cove Beach Pass, and dusting off your tennis rackets. In my neighborhood, it means something else. The following dialogue is verbatim because I typed it as we were talking.

Husband: Oh by the way guess what I saw on our street the other day.
I shout: Coyote?
No.
Wait, don’t tell me! Turkey buzzard?
No.
A meteor? Girl scouts selling cookies?
No.
The guy in the blue car who always speeds?
No.

K-9 division of the Stamford police?
No. It’s neither beast nor fowl.
The lady with the fox dog?
No. Are you-
No no don’t tell me! I want to keep thinking. Mounted police? Schwann man?

Husband: It’s a harbinger of spring, or summer.
A robin?
It’s neither fowl nor beast.
Hm…. summer, summer, something in summer… a convertible?
It’s a combination that includes a vehicle.
A skidoo?
No.
A camper? The ice cream truck!!!
Shakes head.
The dog catcher? A motorcycle with a side cart? A hovercraft?
No.

I muse aloud: A harbinger of spring… or summer… a snake? A crayfish?
Husband: In the northeast, it’s an indication of spring- in this very particular area we live in.
The book mobile!!!!!
(Laughs) No.

I muse: In Stamford or Greenwich, a harbinger of spring…
Husband: No, like a smaller area.
In Bull’s Head?
Probably even a smaller area than that.
Bunnies? Oh it’s not beast.

Husband: It involves a vehicle and only really involves the street we live on.
Me: But what other vehicle do I watch obsessively besides the garbage truck? OH- the guy with the ATV and the kid!!!
Yes.

There is a guy a few streets over who rides on a four-wheeler, in the street, with his four year-old kid in his lap, with no helmet of any kind. I’m astounded. People go so fast on our street- it’s a 25 mph street, and people often go 40 or 45. But if off-roading in Belltown means the weather’s getting nicer, well… I’ll let it go. Click here to read more.

Cheese Spilled at Exit 6: Enough Said

Advocate headline: Crash spills fuel, cheese onto I-95

That headline is obviously funny, so obvious that it's not funny to point it out. Instead, I want to point out that the article about the spilt cheese does not even specify what type of cheese it was! Wheels of brie? Logs of cheddar? Plastic-wrapped Kraft?

It's irresponsible journalism not to report the details.
Does anyone have the scoop on this?

Googling "cheese spill stamford" and "cheese spill I-95" comes up with nothing. Click here to read more.

My Friend Christopher Expounds on Oprah, Cute Dresses, QVC and the Power of Women

I feel justified sharing this non-Stamford related post because I met the author during the same year in which I made my first intentional foray into the city of Stamford. Christopher is a ragingly brilliant actor and radio talk host in Minneapolis. He’s not a Stamford resident, but he is a core member of the Stamford Talk inner circle. His most recent post will, I hope, shed light on why he is my friend.

Christopher and his wife were my neighbors in Rye, NY, the first year I moved up here. Their apartment was across the hall from mine. We were best buddies for 6 months until they moved to Minnesota; they may have moved because I was at their place non-stop. Our adventures included spying on the Olympic swimmer downstairs, drinking lots of coffee, and taking the train into the city to see Christopher in Henry V. His wife and I participated in all sorts of hi-jinx behind the scenes. The two of us gossiped about the other actors, crept around the theatre, and once accidentally stumbled into the spotlight behind a well-known actress.

The three of us also made a zine together. I'd bring my computer across the hall to their apartment and type. People who'll write poems and articles at my bidding = my kind of peeps. We also put together a dossier on our gold medal-winning neighbor. Do you think I’m joking? The funniest part is that the dossier was totally not my idea. I dream- dream- of having neighbors like them again. Click here to read more.

Gordon Ramsey, Cleavage, Me, and a Kitchen Nightmare in Stamford

Stamford will give you what you want if you look.
I want culture, and I want excitement.
I went on Saturday morning to the Avon Film Festival (culture) and stumbled upon the reality show Kitchen Nightmares (excitement).

I’d never heard of the show, but the premise is to take a failing restaurant and turn it around. Despite zealous protests from my husband, I got our name on the list for Tuesday.

After signing our model release form and getting our pictures taken, we were the first ones in the downstairs eating area. We were met by a nervous waiter, soon followed by Gordon Ramsay, who wanted to know what we thought of the gaudy waterfall sculpture on the wall. “It’s nice!” I said. When I’m nervous, I smile and make cheerful conversation.
G: “No it’s not, it’s hideous!”
Me: “Well- it doesn’t match anything else in the restaurant.”
G: “It’s hideous. You’ve got to tell the owner to get rid of it.”

After a few minutes, I got used to the 2 men in black looming over me with a large camera and boom mike. We weren’t given any instructions on how to act, so I just acted like a person eating dinner. It seemed to go over well.
When a course arrived, or even a bread basket, the cameramen swooped in. They were completely silent, so I figured I wouldn’t talk to them either. We each pretended the other didn’t exist. From what I’ve seen of reality TV, that’s what you do. I really like reality TV: Supernanny, America’s Next Top Model, America’s Biggest Loser and Project Runway are all on my TiVo.

In my reality TV debut, I ignored the cameras, flirted with my husband, swilled my Metropolitan, and cleaned my plate.

The camera spent a lot of time on a brunette with enviable cleavage.

Actually, I just this second went to chowhound, where I posted,

“A-
I think I was sitting right across from you... were you the blond, or the brunette with the great cleavage? (If you're the blond, maybe you have great cleavage too, it just wasn't facing me.)
Ha!
Gordon was adorable- hot, even. The beef special was well done on the outside and almost completely raw on the inside. The meat itself was tasty though. I got some good 'camera in the face' time, but I'm not sure if my husband's and my awkward conversation will make for a good TV clip.
My waiter was wonderful despite the cameras following him around. The owner was nervous but attentive, not in a terrible, annoying way. He seemed very likable. I hope this show helps the restaurant.
I think my favorite part of the evening, besides a very nice Merlot, was when Gordon Ramsay insisted on carrying a baby carriage up the stairs-- with the sleeping baby in it.”

Rather than try to write a clever entry that flows well, I’m just going to post this. It’s short, it’s honest, and I have to get ready to go to the Oscar Film Shorts at the Avon tonight!

A, if you are not the cleavage-bearer, let me know. Or, if you want me to take mention of your cleavage off the blog, email me. I’m assuming since you wore the shirt, you are proud of your cleavage. I would be! Click here to read more.

Stamford's Very Own Authentic Voodoo Doll

You have no idea what madness is going on at the police station, but Winnie the Pooh and a human-sized voodoo doll will tell you all about it.

A recent Advocate article is titled: “At Stamford police department, every piece of evidence tells a story.” As you can guess, it’s about items stored in the evidence room, including an arrow (?) used in a murder in 1976, a shovel used to bury a body, and... a stuffed Winnie the Pooh.

I only skimmed this article because I realized there were some disturbing images to avoid… starting with this stuffed animal:
A few items [police sergeant] Rondano has chosen to keep. A stuffed Winnie the Pooh overlooks the front of the property room… Rondano tells a story of a burglary suspect returning to a house to take this bear, only to be arrested. If he had only left the bear, he would have escaped. Rondano keeps the bear to comfort children who come through on tours.

What the- you're keeping a stolen Pooh bear to comfort children? If kids are young enough to be comforted by Pooh, they are too young to be in a room with a baseball bat that was used in a beating!

The next sentence gets even darker:

Tours also include a glimpse at a variety of weapons: real, homemade and toys that bear a frightening resemblance to the real thing.

Unsuspecting kids are glimpsing frightening (but crafty-sounding!) weapons, and I’m glimpsing frightening syntax: you cannot use the words “toys that bear” right after a bizarre toy bear story. Toy bear, toy bear! I can’t even tell if we’re talking about weapons or stuffed animals anymore.

After some descriptions of murders, the article ends on a “not sure if it’s funny or terrifying” note:

Other items can be kept for different reasons. Since being found in a parking lot, a human-size voodoo statue near the entrance has remained. Rondano is hesitant to discard the statute because of its religious nature, but no one wants to take it - possibly for the same reason.

What can I even say about this?

The Stamford Police have a giant voodoo doll- a weapon of terror, really- leaning against the doorframe, welcoming the children on tours. Pooh! Help! I’m left in amazement. We live in an astonishing world, a world in which we can stumble upon a voodoo doll in a parking lot, and where educated adults choose to keep that doll around their workplace.

Our city has an officially documented doll used to cast spells. This doll is as big as we are, and the police think the best thing to do with it is show it off. I’m tempted to suggest we use it as a mascot, or as a prop in parades, but like the cop says, you don’t mess with voodoo.

I’ve got to see this doll, or I won’t be able to concentrate on anything else ever again. What does the statue look like? Is it like a shrunken head, or a scarecrow made with cloth, or a piece of paper? I think the reporter needed a lot more detail there. Did she see the doll? I don’t think she did, or she would have had more to say.

Who knows what other mysteries exist in Stamford? I am thankful to reporters for uncovering them, because this is the kind of gossip I like. Click here to read more.

To Vote, or To Watch the Giants Parade?

I got a good chuckle of out of this Daily Show spoof on Americans' enthusiasm for politics. Click here to read more.