The Wedding

We thought about calling it "The Event of the Century" or "Rumble in the Jungle," but we didn't want expectations to get out of hand. So here are the basics and some further details.


Wedding/Reception
The wedding ceremony will take place at 2:00 p.m. on Saturday, Nov. 15, in the Italian Garden at Maymont, a former estate located in Byrd Park in Richmond, Va. (1700 Hampton St.)

(The Bald Eagle Habitat is now open, in addition to the black bear habitat -- just an added bonus.)

The cocktail reception will take place immediately following, in the Garden Hall.


Hotels
We have reserved blocks of rooms at three hotels:

Richmond Marriott (about 10 minutes to Maymont by car)
500 East Broad Street
Richmond, VA 23219
5 rooms available, reserved under Rick Porter. To place under your name, please call Hotels.com (with whom the reservations were booked) at (866) 476-8771, ext. 5116, and say you want to take over one of the rooms.

*This is different information than what's on the enclosure card in your invitation, and we apologize for the confusion.

Rooms are reserved until Monday, Oct. 13.

Hyatt Place Richmond/Arboretum (about 15 minutes to Maymont by car)
201 Arboretum Place
Richmond, VA 23236
(804) 560-1566 or (888) 492-8847
15 rooms available; ask for the Todorovich-Porter wedding. Held until Friday, Oct. 17.

Marriott Richmond West (about 15 minutes to Maymont by car)
4240 Dominion Blvd.
Glen Allen, VA 23060
(804) 965-9500
10 rooms available; ask for the Todorovich-Porter wedding. Held until Friday, Oct. 17.


Here are some other options that you may consider but that have not been reserved:

Sheraton Richmond West (about 15 minutes to Maymont by car)
6624 W. Broad St.
Richmond, VA 23230
(804) 285-2000

Crowne Plaza Richmond West (about 15 minutes to Maymont by car)
6531 W. Broad St.
Richmond, VA 23230
(804) 285-9951


Note: The Richmond Marathon also takes place on Nov. 15. We anticipate the streets on the course through downtown will be open by early afternoon.

Some notes from Discover Richmond and the Richmond Visitors Center about the city and all it has to offer. We've enjoyed ourselves immensely here; there's a lot to do -- particularly in Carytown and Shockoe Bottom.


Other
We are registered at Crate & Barrel, Target, and Macy's.

If you have questions or need more information, please don't hesitate to e-mail Lisa or Rick, or to call us at (434) 971-7722.

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It just doesn't matter: Intellectually indefensible movies that are awesome anyway (Rick's list)

A week or so ago, during the weekly wine-tasting run, we started talking about movies. Not just any movies, but bad ones, bad ones that we nonetheless will watch anytime we come across them on television.

It wasn't just a guilty pleasure sort of thing. We came up with the catch-all category of Intellectually Indefensible Movies -- the ones we know are bad, that we know aren't well-shot or well-paced or well-written, that pretty much don't have any kind of redeeming value other than giving us something to do for a couple hours, but that we'll watch every time anyway.

The discussion initially centered just on comedies, but as I've thought about it I decided to expand the list to all genres. You'll see a couple sports movies in there, because I'm really just a sucker for sports movies. So after the jump, my list.

Rocky III. Some folks will tell you Rocky IV is the more terribly awesome film, with Rocky singlehandedly bringing about perestroika with his unyielding performance against Ivan Drago. For me, though, it's the third installment. When Clubber Lang stares into the camera and snarls, "Prediction? Pain," well, I'm in.

Bring It On. In the rash of teen movies around the turn of the millennium, Can't Hardly Wait had the classic Hughesian feel, 10 Things I Hate About You had the Shakespearean pedigree, and Bring It On had ... spirit fingers. And Kirsten Dunst and Eliza Dushku in cheerleading outfits. Yeah.

Meatballs. I thought about Stripes for this spot, but two years of extra experience and a bigger budget clearly helped Ivan Reitman and Harold Ramis elevate that one. Meatballs was a Reitman-Ramis joint too -- but a cheap-looking, unfocused one that spawned several shitty sequels. But I still chant "Spaz! Spaz! Spaz!" and "It just doesn't matter" right along with it every time it's on cable.

White Men Can't Jump. I could try to mount a defense of the movie that launched the very brief Wesley-and-Woody buddy-movie run on the grounds of how good the basketball action is, and how well it portrays the culture of the playground game. But then I remember that a huge plot point is Rosie Perez scheming to get on Jepoardy!, and that pretty much goes out the window. But it's probably among my ten favorite sports movies.

The Running Man. Loud, crass and crude, plus it features a completely superfluous "I'll be back." And Richard Freaking Dawson is the bad guy. My inner 15-year-old loves every second.

My younger self probably would have included some of the middle chapters of the Nightmare on Elm Street series too, but I doubt I could stomach them now.

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20,000 words

For most of July, I was stuck inside the walls of the Beverly Hilton, trying to interview actors and writers and network executives about TV shows I haven't seen yet. It's my job, and I enjoy it. But two weeks in any hotel, even a really nice one, is quite enough.

Fortunately, my soon-to-be wife joined me for the tail end of the press tour, and we got out into the fresh air for a few days after it ended. We drank a lot of good wine, saw a bunch of good friends (and a couple of adorable new additions to that crowd) and had ourselves a general grand old relaxing time.

Here's some photographic proof.

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Fixing what ain't broke

A few weeks ago I got a curious package in the mail. It was addressed to me as an employee of Zap2it, it was kind of heavy and it came from a return address I didn't recognize.

Intrigued, I opened the box. Inside were three cans of Mountain Dew -- or I guess I should say "Mountain Dew." They're three new flavors, which go by the names of Voltage, Supernova and Revolution, and I'm supposed to vote on which one is my favorite, so it can take up permanent residence in the soda aisle.

Except I'm not.

Because, honestly, why do we need yet more flavors of Mountain Dew? Why mess with what's just about the perfect soft drink? I've come to accept Code Red, although my first time drinking it was my last. There's a Taco Bell-only flavor and something called Livewire too, but whatever.

Seriously, I don't really get why, when you have a highly caffeinated, indefinably citrusy and bright yellow bit of sugar-water perfection already, you'd want to dilute the brand. Especially with something that A) has a completely nonsensical name ('cause nothing says thirst-quenching like electric shock, stellar explosion and violent uprising); B) contains ginseng (It's pop, fer crissakes. Are sugar and caffeine not enough); and C) has a 2-in-3 chance of being blue.

In case you're interested, though, a few tasting notes:

Voltage: "Raspberry citrus flavor," pale blue in color like diluted Windex. Smells like a blue raspberry Slush Puppie and tastes something like it too, with a little bit of a Fun Dip note thrown in. Left a lingering scent in my cup, even after rinsing out.

Revolution: "Wild berry fruit flavor," also blue but with a slight hint of purple color. Fruity in an innocuous and undistinguishable sort of way.

Supernova: "Strawberry melon flavor," sort of pale purple. The least overbearingly sweet of the three. I didn't struggle to finish the can. If I had to choose one of the three, this would probably be it.

Really, though, none of them is really all that good. Save your voting for the important stuff.

(Also posted at Big Action!)

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It's a Helluva Town

It's been so long since I checked in here that really, everything clever I had thought of to say (And who'm I kidding? The clever bar's pretty low.) has long since vanished from my head in a haze of sleep deprivation and wedding planning.

I did, however, want to mention our great trip to New York last month. We were both in town for work, and stayed the weekend -- and to the wonderful Jeffrey and Peyton I say (a) thank you for putting us up, and (b) we need to see you guys more. Oh, and (c) I want that recipe for chicken and green olive tagine.

There were many highlights:

I finally got to meet the great Keith Marder. Albeit in what amounted to a windstorm. But can't wait to see you again.

And got to spend some time with the great Mary Hood. That doesn't happen often enough either. And next time I might be persuaded to go to Hoboken with you, Mary. Or to the truck stop.

The Superhero exhibit at the Met. Sweet. And Jean Paul Gaultier and Thierry Mugler are either insane or brilliant. I haven't figured it out yet. But since I buy clothes at Target, what I think about this probably doesn't matter much anyway.

Rice to Riches. We live right near some incredibly good gelato, but I have to say that if I ever get enough nickels to rub together, I totally want to open a franchise of this place. If you haven't been -- run, don't walk, to Mott and Spring.

Chris Robinson. I am a sucker for a good celebrity sighting, and as I am a proud member of Team Robinson -- even though everyone knows it's always a mistake to join a band with your brother -- this was awesome.

Gray's Papaya. Best recession special ever.

Brunch with the peeps -- including Zev, one of the coolest tiny men I've ever met. Yelling "Hi, Mo Blow!" has now become a daily staple in our house.


Plus, we found some insanely good fares to New York from Richmond -- so we'll be back. And soon.

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Come sail away, come sail away

Above, one shot from a very satisfying and fun Memorial Day weekend jaunt to Annapolis, the totally charming old port town on the Cheaspeake Bay that's home to the Naval Academy and the state capital of Maryland. Delicious seafood, beautiful weather and a fun bay cruise.

The whole photographic mess is available for your viewing pleasure on the photo page.

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Decision No. 1: It has bears

So it turns out that this getting married stuff is kind of complicated.

We have about a thousand things still left to decide, but we have one pretty big one past us now: We know where and when the ceremony is happening. And as a bonus, it has bears.

We considered several places -- the art gallery space that was a little too hipster-doofusy, the other art gallery that's a better space but has a large-scale installation scheduled for the time we wanted and the really very lovely museum space whose current exhibit, on Richmond's turbulent race relations in the '50s and '60s, prominently features a Klan robe. (From what we saw, it was a pretty responsible and thorough exhibit. But it was just too much for us to take.

But when we saw Maymont a few weeks ago, we pretty much fell in love with it. It's a large, foundation-operated park in Richmond on land donated by the estate of a railroad baron. The gardens are stunning -- the picture above is of the Italian garden, where we'll have the ceremony -- and it contains several wildlife habitats, including an under-construction bald eagle aviary and the aforementioned bears. (I've been to some really cool weddings before, but none of them had bears. I'm really kind of proud of that.)

So that's where we'll be on Nov. 15. If you're reading this, chances are you'll get a more formal notice in the not-too-distant future.

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Ring-a-ding

So if you're reading this, you probably already know that we're engaged. We'll have more to say soon, but like good 21st-century nerds, we updated our relationship status on Facebook. This is what Facebook asks you when you tell it you're engaged:

"You are about to add Lisa Todorovich [in my case] as your Fiancee.
"We will then notify Lisa Todorovich, who will have to confirm that you are in a relationship."

Romantic, isn't it?

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Your March Madness viewing rules

As I write this, we're but 12 hours away from tipoff of the first round of the greatest three weeks in sports. As with any event of this scope, the millions of fans tuning in will have just about as many superstitions and rituals and quirks.

F'rinstance, I used to pick one snack food and eat only that one while I watched games, and I still won't put a team through to a later round on my brackets until I've filled in all games from the previous round. You probably have your own things, and that's cool: Let your basketball-jones flag fly.

All that said, I think we can all agree on a few basic rules for maximum tournament pleasure. Really, it's just one rule, with a bunch of exceptions.

That rule is:

Always root for the underdog. Upsets -- your Hampton-Iowa States, your Valpo-Ole Misses -- are what makes the tournament the greatest, and in many ways the most American, of all sporting events. We love to see the little guy stick it to the Man -- the little guy in this case being some school with a direction in its name and a home gym that seats 3,500 and the Man being all the big-money, big-conference Programs who dominate the season.

Go by that rule, and you're pretty much set. There are, however, a number of caveats.

Caveat 1: Personal, familial or geographical ties to a particular school may trump the rule. This allows me to root for Texas to make a deep run; my brother attended grad school there and has settled in Austin.

Caveat 2: When both teams in a first-round game are middle-of-the-pack schools from a big conference -- this year's West Virginia-Arizona matchup, which I'll bear witness to Thursday night, is a good example -- the rule is waived. Cheer for whoever you please, or ignore entirely.

Caveat 2.5: Similarly, when two teams from smaller conferences butt heads, you're free to take whichever side you want, since it's a guarantee that at least one mid-major team will make the next round. There are a few of those games this year, and though some of that is the inevitable result of seeding, I kinda wish the selection committee would stop those pairings. We like David-Goliath matchups, not David-David ones.

Caveat 3: It's always OK to root against the teams you hate, regardless of their seeding.

Caveat 4: By the Elite 8 round, when teams seeded 7th or worse are most likely gone, you are free to root for whomever you please -- although hoping for the best possible games in the Final Four is always appreciated.

Corollary 1: Rooting for teams based solely on how you far you've taken them in your bracket is uncool. Unless you're wagering more than $100, just enjoy the ride.

Corollary 1.5: If you're on the verge of winning more than $100, Corollary 1 may be ignored, provided you don't end up also violating Caveat 1. No one likes a fair-weather fan, money or no money.

May the madness be with you. Enjoy.

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Bacon and chocolate. Who knew?

I wish I could say the past few weeks had been filled with fabulous and wonderful adventures, and that's why we haven't blogged for a while. I suppose I could say that, but then that would be lying (although we did get to this the other night and had a lot of fun).

Because really, we've kinda been hunkered down with work and general late-winter boringness, and just kind of lazy when it comes to this here.

How lazy? We shared a candy bar with bacon in it more than a week ago, and I'm just now getting around to writing about it.

Background: We went to Richmond two weekends ago to celebrate Lisa's birthday (yay!), where we enjoyed a lovely evening in the Shockoe Slip/Tobacco Row historic areas, eating delicious food and staying in a fancy hotel. On our way home we stopped at the awesome candy store For the Love of Chocolate in Carytown. Words can't do it full justice -- the variety and creativity of sweet stuff on display there is kind of staggering, from Chick-O-Sticks to super-exotic chocolate flavored with chile, rosemary and all manner of other things you wouldn't necessarily think about putting into chocolate.

Which brings me to Mo's Bacon Bar, which, as you may be able to see above, is a combination of "applewood smoked bacon, alder wood smoked salt and 'deep milk chocolate.'" We were both a little trepidatious about trying it, but you know what? Turns out bacon and chocolate is pretty darn good (two great tastes that taste great together, as it were).

The smoky bits of fried pork are a nice compliment to the chocolate, which is darker than your average Hershey bar but not into the realm of the serious dark stuff. But it never gets overwhelming (at least not in the mini-size bar we split). Good crunch too.

More excitement to come -- we're going to the first and second rounds of the greatest sporting event ever in D.C. this weekend, and I plan at least one update from there. I have taken days off in the past to watch the first two rounds, and am doing so again this year, only this time I get to see games in person. This Salon piece from 2001 pretty much captures my feelings about the tournament, and I can't wait to experience it in person for the first time in more than 15 years.

Happy bacon, happy bracketing, and remember to pick at least one 12-vs.-5 upset.

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