Tell me where to go.

"I didn't think it was physically possible, but this both sucks and blows."

- Bart Simpson

The Phillies ... oh, never mind. Soon, my evenings will be free. And theirs, too.

If you ever wonder whether you live in a more phucked up town than Philadelphia, there is a current story that would tell you, "No, I do not." Other than the fact that it's called a "Commonwealth", which should speak volumes about its nature, there is this:

HARRISBURG - After months of wrangling, state senators have crafted a viable draft of a bill that would change where and how Pennsylvanians buy beer. Although it has a ways to go before becoming law, the measure could make it possible for consumers to easily pick up a six-pack virtually anywhere in the state.

You can re-read that if you'd like. I'll wait. [tapping foot]

In case you're unaware, Pennsylvania has this State Store system and some other wacky deal about buying alcohol. There are distributors and package good stores and ... never mind. They put beer and wine in another category because, they figure, you have to swill a lot of beer to get as messed up as you do on a little whiskey. OK, I'm not sure why beer and wine are in a different category. What has always confounded me is that distributors can sell cases of beer but not 6-packs. Duh? The system is so complicated that I'm not sure government understands it.

I'm amazed when something that most of the rest of the world is doing is so hotly debated. What can be so wrong with the way liquor is sold in New Jersey or - geez - Ohio that the good folks of the Commonwealth would think that their method is so fantastic? There must be so much money tied up in that old system that there aren't enough zeroes to finish it.

I'm also constantly amazed at how superstitious people are. They think that some innocuous thing that they do somehow influences events far away from them. What they wear to games, what they say or where they sit are all contributors to a team's success - so they think. I find myself wondering what year it is and whether there's a burning bush, cloven-footed beast or mystical eight-armed God around that I should turn and pray to. I wonder why people who have such a major influence on athletic teams without actually participating have real lives that are so screwed up?

I'm one of those lucky bastards that has Monday off. By the way: Isn't it interesting that we can take an actual anniversary and transform it into a three-day weekend that is celebrated on random days every year? Try that with your wedding anniversary and see how it goes over. "Happy Second Saturday in April, sweetie."

Since the blog has become something of a diary of odd behavior lately, I feel like I should take a day-trip someplace so I can have another week's worth of posts. I'm having trouble deciding where to go. It has to be within one-day round trip driving distance from South Jersey. My choices:

• The Baltimore Inner Harbor. Always good for a day. Great places to eat, scenery and it's in Baltimore, 90 minutes away.
• The Art Galleries on the Mall, Washington, D.C. One of my great stress relievers. This is probably best done on Amtrak, for the complete relaxation feeling. The National Gallery, Hirshorn and East Building. Rothko and Pollock.
• New York City. Please don't tell me to go to New York. Stress capital of the world.
• West toward Gettysburg. There really isn't much to do west of the city. I just added it to cover the direction. If I go this way, I'll get lost sure as shooting. This would be good if you like photos posted, with really boring stories.
• Ride the new Camden Riverline train. They put this thing in last year and I haven't been on it yet. It runs up the Delaware to Trenton. I'm not sure what happens after that.

Those are some choices. There's always Philly, or I could just sleep in. That's relaxing too. Or maybe you have a better idea. You can tell me where to go.

Dream come true.