There's some sort of filmmakers' society meeting at the community center in Millburn that Dad nagged me into checking out. The community center sits in the middle of a park, empty after twilight except for the stray couple making out by the brook, so it's more or less reminiscent of Camp Crystal Lake. I was half surprised that the community center building was unlocked and half surprised that no hockey-mask clad psycho with a machete chased me around the place. I found the meeting okay, listening for the sounds of middle-aged film nerds discussing thirty fps digital video and the latest issue of Reel Indies magazine. But the doors were closed and I got the feeling I wouldn't be able to sneak in, so instead I snuck out...

...and this woman put down her book and came out of the teen game room to ask if she could help me, to which there was the natural question: How the hell do they have a teen game room?

Here in Fanwood, at La Grande Park, the park near my house, we have a room. It's locked pretty much all the time, so even if there were a ping-pong table in there, the misbegotten teens of Fanwood could only stand outside the room and smoke weed. In fact, there's only like Topple and Mouse Trap in that room, and they're missing about half their pieces, which explains why the room is locked and why you apparently can't trust Fanwood's teens with anything nice, such as an air hockey table.