No Class
But you still eat paste
Depending on your age, the air this weekend is either redolent of the grim stench of an impending school year, or the air is perfumed with the liberating aroma of an impending school year. Even if you don't have kids, the air is thick with the unmistakable smell of school supplies, and it truly is one of the most wonderful times of the year. The satisfying heft of a ream of college-ruled paper, the smell of a brand-new Sharpie, the ergonomically clean lines of a mechanical pencil (now with 0.9-millimeter leads, for the heavy-handed writer!) pinched between your fingers -- these are the simple joys of life. It doesn't matter if you ever actually use that gleaming three-hole punch for anything other than a paperweight, or if you have a locker in which to hang your new locker mirror; you have a credit card and an unfulfilled urge to purchase the colored glue sticks your mother never bought you. -- Paul Friswold
One Giant Peep for Mankind
There are two good reasons to head to the St. Louis Science Center (5050 Oakland Avenue, 314-289-4400) for the closing weekend of the Candy Unwrapped exhibit: One, the Jelly Belly Festival promises enough free candy to choke Augustus Gloop (Saturday, August 30, through Monday, September 1, $3-$4). Two, they're going to explode Peeps in a microwave. Yes, Peeps, those innocent little marshmallow bunnies and duckies that make each Easter as sweet as the Lord will allow, are subjected to various cruelties (including a dip in liquid nitrogen) in a show called "The Science of Peeps." Perhaps inspired by such Web sites as www.peepresearch.org, the SLSC show is mad science at its most gleeful and sticky. -- Byron Kerman
