This story ran Tuesday, outlining the current state of Richard Poplawski's incarceration:

At an undisclosed location on the Northside of Pittsburgh, my training officer, Frank, a burly, big, corpulent man who stands imposing at over 6'5", attempts to show me the search, rewind, and fast-forward functions on the security cameras that overlook the first floor of the building we're paid to guard. It's not difficult -- just pressing buttons, really -- but he's inspired to show me the system's functionality in as much detail as possible. We know, for example, there are reports of a "suspicious person entrance" last night -- representing one of those weird security phrases that can mean a million different potentially hilarious things but actually means "someone showed up at 3am and nothing weird happened" -- so we try to find it, to find this person.

First, local (Pittsburgh):

This dive seemed like a good idea at the time

I am not a foodie in any sense of the word. I usually cook my own meals, but they're always uncomplicated, simple and cheap -- sandwiches, omelets, breasts of chickens, salads, sometimes very Americanized stir-fries and Mexican food. I recently stole a recipe from my dad, for example, which he proudly calls "The Stroud Concoction." It's hamburger meat, corn, potatoes, onions and lots of salt, all mixed together. That's about the pinnacle of my cooking ambitions.

I've got a few things running in various Pittsburgh publications this week. Nothing huge or ground-breaking, but perhaps of interest if you're in the city and looking for local issues to think about during dinner conversation or whatever:

We're back in Pittsburgh after 2 grueling, but satisfying days climbing through the Appalachians. I'll put up a detailed explanation of the route we took tomorrow morning. If you're in Pittsburgh, give a call -- we'll be here until Thursday morning, when we depart for Cleveland.

Why would anyone want to enter Hymowitz's married adulthood if they hadn't met someone they matched? We're inundated -- from birth, really -- by images of movie-born ideals -- love above all, matches made in heaven, lives spent in the bonds of holy matrimony. But what if you haven't met your true love? What if you don't need to be matched in heaven? What if the threat of a bad marriage trumps the promise of a good one? What if you believe our concepts of love are farcical? Do you automatically embody "child-man" status? Or is there another answer?