Adam and I spent the weekend in Cooperstown with our friends Alan and Sharon and Phil and Clare, visiting the Baseball Hall of Fame, hearing singer/songwriter Dan Bern, and staying at this quaint country inn (feel free to guess which part of the trip I was most excited about).

The thing that I was most struck by -- it's really winter. Which is easy to forget sometimes in Philadephia, where it snows rarely, if it all, and the snow hardly ever sticks and never seems to last, and every time a few flakes fall the entire city is whipped into an adrenaline-frappe of panic, which dictates that any and all ambulatory citizens have to mob the nearest supermarket and wait in endless lines to purchase bread, eggs and milk (which gives me a nice snowy-day image of the entire city stuck at home, eating French toast).

There's no snow here in Philly, but in Scranton, Binghamton and points north, they are buried. There was something like five feet of snow on the ground in Cooperstown, and more flurries both days we were there. It reminded me of being a kid in Connecticut, where there would be snow on the ground pretty much consistently from December through March. My junior high ran Wednesday afternoon bus trips to the local downhill ski mountain, and my high school had a cross-country ski team. And I miss snow, dammit (although right now I'm pretty focused on finding somewhere warm to go -- the proverbial baby-moon before the Bun arrives).

Dan Bern sang his baseball songs, and was really great -- funny and soulful and deserving of much more fame than he's got. If you haven't heard him, or heard of him, check him out. Start with "Jerusalem," which was the first Dan Bern song I ever heard. I picked up the phone and called my local public-radio station and said, "Who is that? You have to tell me, because it's, like, the funniest thing I've ever heard." And it was Dan, and I was hooked.

And as for the Hall.....well, I felt like Homer Simpson, complaining about how every time he learns something new it shoves something old and necessary out of his brain (Homer: "Remember the time I took that wine-tasting class and forgot how to drive?" Marge: "You were drunk!" Homer (blissfully) "And how.") I think every piece of baseball trivia that inadvertantly entered my consciousness has dislodged something I really needed to know. Like, where my sunglasses are. Right now. But ask me about Babe Ruth's wives! Seriously. I know!

Also, Joe Millionaire. I am inordinately excited about the second episode of Joe Millionaire. The lying! The crying! The cat-fighting! Also, I think I've got a crush on the butler.