Proud Day to Be a Skipper

Thanks to SmartyPants, and then Jesse, for bringing this story to my attention. Apparently, the best-tasting tap water in this country is in Southampton, MA. Snore. But, (but!) the short list of finalists in the competition included my hometown, North Kingstown, RI. Frankly I am as shocked as you are. It's a fine, fine day to be a Skipper (my high school mascot. Do you feel me, Beta?). Of course, Jesse's hometown is ... Southampton, MA so once again he has triumphed over me, but more odd is the coincidence that we were bounded by reservoir to be friends.

Also, thanks to Hooly for drawing my attention to this story in the New Yorker. If you think a long form piece of journalism about elevators could not possibly be interesting, boy are you wrong. On the New Yorker's website you can see a time lapse video captured of Nicholas White, who was stuck in an elevator in Manhattan for 41 hours. Just watching this makes me want to die. Here is my favorite part of the article, written by Nicholas Paumgarten:

In most elevators, at least in any built or installed since the early nineties,
the door-close button doesn’t work. It is there mainly to make you think it
works. (It does work if, say, a fireman needs to take control. But you need a
key, and a fire, to do that.) Once you know this, it can be illuminating to
watch people compulsively press the door-close button. That the door eventually
closes reinforces their belief in the button’s power. It’s a little like prayer.

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