First about Boston — I watched the season premier of Crossing Jordan, which purports to take place in this little Beantown. I have lived here well before and since the “new tunnel,” aka the Ted Williams Tunnel, was built. Aside from the bigdig.com link I have here, is there anyone in town calling it the TWT?

They said it like six times on the show, and I couldn’t figure out what they were talking about at first. ‘Course, that could be because I was feeling tired and stupid given that the image on the screen was folks trapped in a tunnel, and someone mentioned going to the airport. Still, it could have been the old tunnel.

Back to my point, though, I have never heard family, friends, acquaintances, colleagues or any mere mortal with whom I regularly speak say, “I’m in the TWT.” Oh right, that’s also because in real life, I’ve never heard a cell phone work from the “TWT.” Fucking TV.

Now, back to me — had a comedy fantasy come true tonight. A guy introducing himself to me after a show, telling me I’m funny and saying how he runs some shows and would like to use me, yada yada. All very “kid, I’m going to make you a star” kind of showbusiness-y. Of course, in the real world, plodding on terra firma, it’ll probably be on par with a dozen other shows I’ve done and not very star-making at all. Still and all, nice to be asked.

Meanwhile, watching my brother get married far more dramatically than his first, hanging with my family, watching another friend turn 40 and missing my escort to these social functions has me thinking. I think you can never underestimate the pleasure of just being comfortable with folks and living life easy.

If nothing else binds me to the legendary M. it’s that I’m almost always comfortable talking with him, and generally I look forward to bitching and moaning about or happily relating the minutia of the day. (I’ll have to remind myself of that the next time I’m yeah, yeah, yeah-ing him and not really listening. What can I say? I’m no fucking saint, especially as far as girlfriends go.)