So, it is true, I was turned away from that Canadian Border and am now happily hanging out in Charleston, South Carolina.

Before the detour at Niagara, I did enjoy The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, paid a ridiculous amount of money to toll booths for the privilege to drive through Indiana and Ohio, and had spicy Buffalo Wings, where Buffalo wings were invented at Anchor Bar in Buffalo, New York.

After quickly realizing that the city of Cleveland has a limited amount of worthwhile attractions to tantalize the senses, although, I understand that the Cleveland Museum of Art has pretty decent Picasso collection, I decided to camp at a Howard Johnson Motel and prep for a long day at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame provided six and a half hours of entertainment, information, and rocking. It is a very thorough and extensive museum & showcase of rock and roll, the people that influenced the music over the years, and the culture that surrounds it. There really is too much in the Hall of Fame to do in one day. Too much music, literature, video, and artifacts to divide ones time amongst, and in truth, not everything needs to be seen to really appreciate the museum. The actual “Hall,” alphabetical signatures of all the inductees, was especially well done. Only the glowing signatures of the rock legends illuminate a spiraling hallway that takes you from Aerosmith to ZZ Top. And the sound of the inductee’s music comes from a two-story theater at the end of the hall that cycles through footage of all the inductees in order of the acceptance into the hall. A well done presentation.

After the Hall of Fame, the drive to Niagara Falls was just a quick shot down the turnpikes, but Niagara would be the furthest north that I would be allowed to go.

There really isn’t much to Cooperstown, NY. A small strip of downtown, cluttered with stores and restaurants all with baseball theme and décor, a well-groomed baseball field set back into a neighborhood filled with old wooden houses, and of course the Baseball Hall of Fame. The Hall of Fame is as much a church of baseball, as it is a history museum. The format of the museum is an extensive timeline that documents the evolution of baseball from the first games conducted by Abner Doubleday (A surprisingly significant person in history, who’s name would come up again during the tour of Fort Sumter in South Carolina) in the fields of Cooperstown, to the modern game that is played today. Along the way, the museum showcases the notable baseball individuals and achievements with displays built around the actual jerseys, baseballs, gloves, and shoes that made history. The artifacts, coupled with amazing video footage, capture the greatness of the game and the people who played it.

The actual Hall in the Hall of Fame is built like a church, lighted like a church, and feels like a church. Along the walls where stained glass would be in an actual church are the placards with the bronze faces and captions of the members of baseball’s elite. At the end of the Hall, under a glass roof, are the faces of the original five inductees to the Hall of Fame: Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth, Honus Wagner, Christy Mathewson and Walter Johnson— The Class of 1936. I have to admit it was pretty cool to walk past the Ruth’s jerseys, Cobb’s cleats, and Wagner’s glove in one room, and then come face to face with their bronze likeness forever captured today in 2006 the same way it was in 1936.

A highlight that I will never be able to fully convey to someone who has not stepped inside the Hall of Fame is the pure love of baseball that the Hall of Fame docents have, and how addicting it is when you are in the building. Upon entering the section of the Hall dedicated to baseball’s ballparks, I was greeted by an old-timer who asked me, “So, what’s your team?” I let him know I was a huge A’s fan, duh, and that was all the prompt he needed to go into an entire history of the Athletics franchise, baseball’s move west, and the successes and failures of the teams that have moved from their former east coast homes. He told me in great detail, while looking at pictures of the Old Polo Grounds in New York, about how he jumped and yelled for joy after the "Shot Heard 'Round the World," when New York Giants’ outfielder Bobby Thomson hit a walk-off homerun at the Polo Grounds to win the National League pennant on October 3, 1951. He continued to prattle on in an amusing and joyful way through the records and no-hitter displays. This man, no less than 80 years old, had managed to somehow consolidate, without omission of great detail, nearly the entire history of his relationship with baseball into about half an hour. It was inspirational and moving. It was a story of love and respect for the game that I had never witnessed in person. It explains why “Shoeless” Joe Jackson and Pete Rose are blacklisted, and why the steroid induced records and milestones of the modern game should not stand. The game is bliss, the players are heroes, and winning can be the greatest triumph in the world for a fan, but the cheaters ruin what is pure and perfect. I guess I needed to go to the church of baseball to be enlightened. Go A’s.

Yeah, Boston’s a nice little city. The city of bad drivers, limited parking, relentless traffic wardens, zero city planning, beans, beer, and oh so much history. Never drive to Boston. It’s just a really bad idea. They don’t want your car there, and you don’t want to have your car with you. In two days in Boston, I had my car sideswiped and towed. Both minor things to happen considering the alternatives, but nevertheless I couldn’t wait to move on to the safe underground parking havens of New York City. I really don’t blame current Bostonians for their reckless, road-raging, life threatening antics, because very little city planning was put into the design of Boston’s roadways. However, with MIT and Harvard just across the Charles River I feel that the great minds of the east coast should band together and attempt to remedy the disastrous driving situation. Just a suggestion.

That's all for now. I already have a lot more to say, but am falling behind.