Sunday, August 20, 2006

Salvage

You'll be happy to know that my weekend with Shane... was a complete blast.

I'm back. Happy once again. Memories of last week have been properly disposed of.

But... I must mention that I almost didn't get to see Shane at all. The traffic from DC to Jersey (or, more specifically, from Baltimore to Camden) was almost unbearably horrible. My drive up-- which should have taken 2 1/2 hours-- took more than twice that. Some of the worst traffic I've ever been involved with, at least along I-95.

With nothing to eat in the car, nothing to drink... how did I ever manage?

***

After briefly considering turning around and aborting/postponing the trip, the traffic eased up (if only temporarily)... and so yes-- I did, in fact, make it up to see Shane and Dan.

And seeing them was just great... exactly what I needed.

After chilling for a bit at their place, we headed over to Philly for drinks. Basically, we hit four places-- Moshulu, a big 'ol boat with a bar smack in the middle (by Michelle's Hyatt, for those keeping score), and then three (landlocked) places by 2nd and Market Streets.

I'd never been in that area, and so Shane and Dan basically introduced me to an entirely new hood. Apparently, where we were is one of the new "in" places in the city. South Street is years ago, Mannayunk is months ago... we were where all the cool kids go, circa August 2006. Though of course, now that *I* know about it... I'm sure it's already passe.

The best place was called Eulogy, at 2nd and Chestnut. It had a beer menu consisting of more than 300 selections, complete with ratings and explanations and the whole thing. I tried several new drinks there, and each was better than the last.

Anyway-- the whole pace of the day was casual, which was just what I needed, having just come off of the fucking drive from hell, earlier on. My stress level subsided, strangely enough, with each beer I downed.

And the three of us... we took quite a few.

Philadelphia, represent.

Speaking of, I had a cheesesteak to top things off, at a place I'd never been to called Campo's. The sandwich wasn't bad at all. Exceptionally heavy on the Whiz (a good thing), the meat was nice and fresh, and more importantly, the roll was, as well. A solid 9/10.

***

By the time we got back home, Shane plopped on the Coldplay Live DVD. Which would be neither here nor there, except that we watched it on a 50" flat screen, up on the wall of her living room, complete with a full (and ridiculously kickass) speaker setup. I don't think I've ever heard something so great coming out of a TV, Coldplay-related or not.

After that, a few more drinks, some playtime with her dog, and about :20 of Billy Madison... we called it a night.



***

This morning was little more than breakfast, a quick walk of the dog, and some chatter by the lake behind Shane's house.

It was all very relaxing. I could have sat there all day.

But as I have the Berger curse, I had to get going far sooner than I really needed to. Even in the most relaxing chairs by the water, with my good bud Shane... something inside was yelling at me to leave, presumably along the lines of, oh, I don't know, "what if there's traffic??? Then what are you gonna do, stupid?"

I'm talking to myself.

In a blog.

Jesus.

***

Anyway, it was a great time. So great that I'm gonna show you more pics of my nephew, that Mich was kind enough to supply.







***

So, Snakes on a Plane only made $15 million this weekend, disappointing a lot of predictors who'd expected $25-30 million or more.

Eh, it's nothing to me. It'll make for an interesting case study in a marketing textbook (e.g., even the most successful marketing campaign doesn't guarantee that consumers will buy your product), I guess.

More important is the fact that both Ilise and Jill called me (separately), hysterical at how phenomenal(ly bad) the movie was.

In the best possible way, of course. Both of them may still be laughing, even as you read this.

I still need to see it, I'm thinking. Lord knows I talked about it enough beforehand... so I wouldn't want to cop out, now. It wouldn't be right.

***

Gotta go-- K-Fed's about to perform, or something.

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