Joyriding today, in the general direction of Cooperstown, NY, but not necessarily to see the Baseball Hall of Fame. The purpose of the trip is to see the same brilliant trees I see at home, but surrounded by hills and mountains instead of flatland and concrete. Interstate 88 is a gorgeous, solitary drive across eastern New York. It seems almost a gratuitous interstate, in that there are hardly any rest stops or visible development anywhere near most parts of the highway. The topography beats the heck out of that along I-90. If I make it all the way out to the Hall of Fame before I have to turn around (I have an 11AM football game in Cleveland on Sunday), that's a nice side effect. If I can teach myself to reassociate long interstate drives with joy rather than pain, that's a nice side effect too.