Waiting to Get There. Usually on the A/C/E in Chelsea, New York City.

Atlantic City Ironman - map of the run part of the operation Andy and I look at our watches and wait for Tom, and then Stacie. We stand at the rope separating we spectators from the triathletes running by. At this point in the race, the Ironman competitors already swam 1.2 miles, rode their bikes almost 57 miles and were about half done with a 13.1 mile run. It's hot in the sun. Most of the runners look some greyish shade of completely beat. Andy gives me this weird look when all of a sudden I break out a really spirited whoop and shout, "Go David!" He wants to know what just happened there and how I knew the random Ironman dude's name was David. I say I just interviewed David for the podcast like last month. I knew exactly who he was because he had his company name emblazoned across his shirt and he looks exactly like his headshot. I tell Andy I sent David a LinkedIn invite and he never accepted it. Andy says, "Instead of cheering, you should have

Andy says to me, "I always worry that you won't be able to find something on the menu that you can eat. But then you manage to order something gigantic." He eyes up the salad I could barely fit on the table. And I know he's thinking of these pretty huge eggplant rolls I put down at dinner yesterday. "Yep," I say, through a mouthful of broccoli rabe. It's hard to chew broccoli rabe fast. You have to fletcherize ."I'm excellent at hunting and gathering." I dig into my beans. Just a quick sidebar for the uninformed who don't know what fletcherizing means. Your father clearly did not take it upon himself to regularly squawk about its importance. Fletcherizing just means to chew really thoroughly so you appreciate your dinner. I have no idea why or how my pop became so enamored by the idea of it. He's not exactly what I'd consider an epicurean. Regardless of your capacity to fletcherize, it takes a lot of energy to do this no

First we went to the Crows Nest , that place on the East River behind the hospital. As we approached the restaurant, Tom said, "I see how this went down. They needed more seating and someone thought, 'hey, let's just jam a boat right up against the side here.'" Very practical, I nodded. Very practical. You go in the Crow's Nest and feel like you're in the cartoon part of Nantucket or something. The part of Nantucket where the interior designers only have a misty impression of what goes on in Nantucket, but joyfully barrel forward anyway. A checkered napkin, wood paneling, life rafts and ship steering wheels, astroturf, salsa and chips, lots of Russians attending a private cocktail party in spandex. Astroturf adds a sportsy touch. It was all good. Darcey and Kent were in town and we met up with Helen and Matt. Ancillary to seeing our awesome friends, I had a little revelation up there atop the Crow's Nest: I'm a raging tonic water snob. B

Jack on the 1st day of 4th Grade Jack went with Grandma and Grandpa to the Insectarium  in New Orleans. There's a cafeteria at the Insectarium. Jack ate a few chocolate "crick" cookies. As in, cookies made from crickets. I asked Jack what the cricket cookies tasted like. He tilted his head to the side and contemplated his answer: "They tasted like regular cookies. With a hint of meat."