We hear 'casinos,' we think 'tasteful'

Attention gambling lovers of the Northeast: If you want your kids to be ready when three shiny new casinos open somewhere in Massachusetts, better get yourself to an arcade up in Salisbury or Hampton Beach. Did you know they have actual Las Vegas slot machines now? And I don't know about you, but nothing warms my heart like seeing my 8-year-old daughter feeding tokens into the Double Diamonds. All that's missing is the cigarette and the portable oxygen machine.

Meanwhile, you can find the latest on Gov. Deval Patrick's casino proposals here. I know it's making everybody nervous about things like gambling addiction, crime, prostitution and the possibility that at least one of them will be run by James Caan, but don't worry: The governor only wants casinos that are “tasteful and appropriate."

Clearly the governor has not been to Vegas lately.

I'll take '3'

A pre-autumn quiz: What's the best part about the end of summer?

1. Less sand in your trunks.
2. Britney stops wearing sequined bikinis in public.
   
3. People aren't allowed to yell at you if you bring your dogs to the beach:

This week's columnTake a walk on the pirate side

Even centuries after their heyday, it’s hard not to appreciate the appeal of pirates. After all, who can’t relate to roving bands of felons who, according to Wikipedia, “ate poorly, did not become fabulously wealthy, and died young.” (Keeping in mind, of course, that everything on Wikipedia is made up.) Also, they’re among the few brands of criminals who actually had their own flag, so you knew when they were coming. Nobody ever said they were bright.

My own personal exposure to pirates is limited to my role in my high school’s production of “The Pirates of Penzance,” in which I played the pirates’ nemesis, Major-General Stanley. But even though I knew it was only a play, I couldn’t help but feel an affinity to all the real-life 19th century major-generals whom pirates tried to murder while singing snappy Gilbert and Sullivan librettos. (In their defense, if I had to listen to all those verses of “I am the Very Model of a Modern Major General,” I would have wanted to kill me too.)

I bring all this up because this is a busy time of year for fake pirates. First, Sept. 19 is “Talk Like a Pirate Day,” the day on which we’re encouraged to walk around saying “ye” instead of “you” and creating contractions that would make William Safire blush (or, say, “turn red’r th’n a buck’t o’ chum”).

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

And we're not sure of this, but we think he may have been at the Watergate in 1972

Pivotal moments in Bill Belichick history:

• March 16, 1960: Bill turns in a math test that looks remarkably similar to that of Suzy Cranmore, the girl who sits at the next desk. His teacher, Ms. Fran Seliwinsky, moves him to the other side of the classroom next to Bob "Stumpy" Federman. His grades slip immediately.
• June 12, 1963: Bill's neighbor Frankie Driscoll accuses Bill of failing to acknowledge direct hits during a game of battleship. When he attempts to look at the board, Bill feigns tripping into it, knocking all the pieces loose. They wrestle.
• Oct. 23, 1969: Bill's first girlfriend, MaryLou Stetson, finds an unfamiliar shade of lipstick on the collar of his letterman jacket. Bill pleads ignorance. She fines him $500,000 and two draft picks.
  

I blame global warming!

Am I the only one concerned about the spiders banding together to build a giant web in Texas? This can lead no place good.

If you haven't heard, the usually independent arachnids have been working together in harmony, creating a web that could, with relative ease, snare a Humvee. So why have they decided that now is the time to unionize? Some entomologists think it might be a fluke, but on the other hand, they probably never saw "Kingdom of the Spiders" (1977), starting William Shatner. Yes, I know: You'd think that would be required viewing in entomology school.

Then there's this choice quote:

"At first, it was so white it looked like fairyland," said Donna Garde, superintendent of the park about 45 miles east of Dallas. "Now it's filled with so many mosquitoes that it's turned a little brown. There are times you can literally hear the screech of millions of mosquitoes caught in those webs."

As much as I hate mosquitoes, it's only a matter of time before those mosquitoes are replaced by Rotarians. Don't say you weren't warned.

And they don't mean it's making them happy

OK, I promise, this is the last post on "High School Musical," at least until they announce the next sequel or until another cast member poses naked. But I felt obligated to report this latest development: "High School Musical" is turning our children gay.

Suddenly, it all makes sense.

This week's column: NASA just needs a little space

OK, I’ll say it: NASA needs some better P.R. Between the astronauts wearing diapers and plotting murders and the ones getting toasted on flight days (“Drink up, dude, I’m taking this thing to the frickin’ moon!”), it seems we’ve forgotten what NASA is all about: spending billions of taxpayer dollars to take blurry pictures of, I don’t know, nebulas.

Just to recap, the alleged diaper-wearing, murder-planning astronaut, Lisa Nowak, has pleaded temporary insanity, saying that she has a variety of diagnosed mental illnesses that NASA somehow managed to overlook. In its defense, though, NASA did a fine job of making sure she was qualified for the 8-by-10 color shuttle crew glossy. (Say what you want about Nowak’s homicidal tendencies — you have to admit she looks smashing in orange.)

But in reviewing the Nowak matter, one investigator turned up reports of astronauts flying into space aboard a Russian Soyuz rocket while intoxicated. (Damn those cosmonauts and their well-stocked liquor cabinets!) NASA has since launched an internal investigation and declared the report to be an “urban legend,” which would also explain the astronaut who allegedly exploded after eating Pop Rocks and Coke.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

Damn those digital cameras!

OK, so it turns out I was totally wrong when I decided not to believe the Vanessa Hudgens naked pictures rumor. Her publicist has released a statement saying that the picture now circulating around the Internet is indeed the "High School Musical" star, but that it was "taken privately,” and "it is unfortunate that this has become public.” Proving once again that no matter how much publicists get paid, it's not enough.

So instead I've decided to take a different tack and declare that it's no big deal, on the following grounds:

• These days, everybody has naked pictures of themselves on the Internet. This is why Al Gore invented it in the first place. If they'd had the Internet in the '80s, we'd have all had to suffer through naked pictures of Jeanne Kirkpatrick.
• Given everything that Lindsay and Britney have done, a naked picture actually seems kind of quaint, like flapper skirts or Ingrid Bergman's pregnancy.
• This may prompt Disney executives to take a good, hard look at the policies surrounding their performers, and finally decide to chain them in boxes and make them sleep in the studio.

Meanwhile, we can only hope that people will preserve the magic that is "High School Musical" by ignoring the offending image, which shouldn't be much of a problem. Those of us over 19 only have eyes for, well, you know.

Can I trade my old one in?

Well, Apple has done it again. That is, annoyed everyone who's shelled out big bucks for an iPod, only to have Apple release a better version a few months later. This is why I've always said you should put off buying an iPod, ideally until you are dead.

Meanwhile, that sound you hear is the thousands of people who bought their iPods yesterday slapping their palms against their foreheads. Of course, consumers won't stand for this forever. Someday we're going to stop greeting every new announcement by Steve Jobs with thunderous applause and sleeping on sidewalks for the first crack at the latest piece of Apple technology. Just not today, apparently.

To top things off, Apple cut the price of the just-released iPhone by $200, ostensibly to goose sales, but more likely to make the aforementioned sidewalk sleepers feel like idiots. I’m sure this is the source of much hilarity among the techies at Apple, who are still trying to get back at us for giving them wedgies all through high school.

Or (5), 'All of the Above'

Jerry Lewis' Greatest Hits -- Pick your favorite!

1. "Jessie, the illiterate fag." (last weekend)
2. "You don't want to be pitied for being a cripple in a wheelchair? Stay in your house." (2001)
3. “A woman doing comedy doesn’t offend me, but sets me back a bit. I, as a viewer, have trouble with it. I think of her as a producing machine that brings babies into the world.” (2000)
4. "Hey, laaaaaaaaadddddyyyyyy!!!" (1949-1972)

This week's column: An impressive out-of-body of work

Here’s the thing about scientists: While most of us can only imagine advancements that would better humanity — like, say, a TV remote that would come when you called it — scientists actually find a way to make those advancements a reality. They do this because they want to make the world a better place, and also because they’ve got a lot of grant money.

Take this latest endeavor, for example. Apparently, scientists in Switzerland and Sweden have managed to induce out-of-body experiences in the laboratory. And you know what that means: Soon we may be able to have out-of-body experiences whenever we want them, instead of just sitting around hoping they might happen — say, when a certain co-worker corners you in the break room.

For the rest of this week's AT LARGE by Peter Chianca, click here.

But she shouldn't worry, since I'm sure they'll never make it onto the Internet

I've given this some thought, and I've decided not to believe the Vanessa Hudgens naked picture rumor for the following reasons:

1. It started in the National Enquirer. I'm not sure when legitimate news organizations decided that it was OK to refer to things reported in the National Enquirer as if they actually existed in reality, but it's proof positive that Dan Rather really is better off installing cable for Comcast, or whatever he's doing now.
2. Anyone with the nickname "Freaky Math Girl" is way too smart to send naked pictures of herself to Zac Efron, knowing all reasonable means of transmission are being monitored around the clock by Rupert Murdoch.
3. I prefer to think of the "High School Musical" cast as being made of smooth plastic, like Barbie dolls.
   

And he'll start by giving Oprah a car like Travolta did

You heard right: Clinton (Bill, that is) is going on Oprah. According to an e-mail Oprah sent to her book club, the occasion will mark "The first interview about his new passion!" Which, given some of his old passions, is a frightening thought.

But it turns out that passion is "Giving," both the activity and his new book of that same name. But in between his talk of philanthropy, what dirt will he spill? What bombshells will he drop? And most importantly, what will be the next Book Club pick? (Offhand guess: It will be long, and involve depressing foreigners.)

Meanwhile, count on Bill to reveal any number of the following:

• “That whole Vince Foster thing? All Hillary.”
• “During the ’92 campaign, James Carville and I would take turns making Jerky Boys calls to Ross Perot … We’d picture those ears of his turning all red and just laugh and laugh …”
• “Al Gore: Worst guy to get stuck next to at a party ever.”
• “Bush’s dad told me he wet the bed. No, not when he was a kid.”
• “I did have sexual relations with that woman. And that woman. And that woman. And … [tape runs out]."

What, you're telling me Mark Hamill was booked?

Let's face it, NASA needs some good P.R. -- between the astronauts wearing diapers and plotting murders and the ones getting toasted on flight days ("Drink up, dude, we're going to the frickin' moon!"), it seems we've forgotten what NASA is all about: spending billions of taxpayer dollars to take blurry pictures of, I don't know, nebulas.

So, what to do? I can see only two reasonable options:

1. Undertake an important, dramatic space mission that pushes the boundaries of known science and expands our knowledge of the universe; or,
2. Cheesy "Star Wars" tie-in.

And it probably won't surprise you to hear which one they've chosen. (Hint: Not No. 1.) Apparently, the space shuttle Discovery will take Luke Skywalker's actual (fake, plastic) lightsaber on its next mission to the International Space Station. And not only that: Chewbacca himself will hand the lightsaber over to Space Center officials. Which, of course, is ridiculous. Everybody knows that Wookiees don't use lightsabers.

All I can say is, I'm sure this will do wonders for NASA's tarnished image. Just like Major League Baseball's floundering reputation was saved by this.

They're fat, they're fat, we know it

OK, I understand that obesity is a big problem in this country, and that it won't be long before we're all waddling to work and getting stuck in door frames like Laurel and Hardy. But really, where are they finding the file photos to run with their obesity stories? I'm thinking specifically of this guy. It's like Uncle Fester exploded.

It's time we got a more dashing obese spokesperson. I think you know who I mean.

The days dwindle down, to a precious few ...

Yes, the calendar says that fall doesn't start until Sept. 22 or thereabouts (wait ... I may be thinking of Yom Kippur), but as we all know Labor Day marks the true end of the summer season. I know that personally, if I can't wear my white poly-cotton golf slacks and matching Clark Griswold loafers without risking derisive snickers down at the club, it ain't summer.

With that in mind, here is my first installment in what will no doubt become an annual "What I Did This Summer" series. And this one pretty much speaks for itself (literally, since I narrate):

'Radio Nowhere' ... and especially not here

Post a link to Springsteen's new single before it's officially released? I would never!

Hey, what's that over there behind you?

http://hypem.com/search/radio%20nowhere/1/

(You didn't hear this from me.)

It's wiggly annoying

Memo to Ticketmaster: I love you just as much as the next guy. I love the little indecipherable verification words, and the "Convenience" charges, and the extra buck-fifty I have to throw in for the Building Facility, since apparently they don't glean enough off the original exorbitant ticket price to be able to afford toilet paper.

But what I don't love is that you keep sending me e-mail alerts suggesting, nay, demanding that I "Don't miss The Wiggles!" Listen, Ticketmaster: Just because I bought Wiggles tickets five years ago doesn't mean I want to be prodded every time they come back to town. I'm sorry to say this, but ... We don't like The Wiggles anymore. We couldn't even tell you the name of the guy who replaced Greg. My kids have moved on! You should as well.

Um ... If Hannah Montana comes around, though, I'm in.

Back, and better than ever! Sort of

You ... yes, you! The old At Large Blog fan who took a chance and wandered on to this site even though I haven't posted anything in five months! Thanks for stopping by. How are you? Would you like something to drink? I have seltzer around here somewhere.

Just so you know, you can find my blog musings at two new sites: The Shorelines Blog (concentrating on the weird and wacky on Boston's North Shore, but venturing out into the real world more than occasionally), and also at OurTowns Tonight, the blog for GateHouse Media New England. Check 'em out! Somebody's got to.

And I'll be posting here more often too, because, well ... I feel horribly guilty. There, I said it. And just to prove I mean it, here's a picture of me as a Simpsons character:

Because it's there

Please excuse my lack of blogging of late; I'm currently scaling the Himalayas with my dog Rocky and my loyal manservant, Lorenzo. It's very difficult to blog from here, since most of the caves with WiFi are already fully occupied by coffee-drinking slackers.

So posts here will be (as they have been) few and far between, but in the meantime you can check out my contributions to "Our Towns Tonight," a blog on all things Massachusetts, and look for a new blog launch from me through with the publication North Shore Sunday in the near future.

In the meantime ... On, Rocky! Mush! Mush!