We spent the long weekend in the District of Columbia for the country’s 228th and Mark’s 26th. (That’s our nation’s capital, not 116th St., for any of our in-from-out-of-town readers who might be confused.) After the three-plus hour schlep down and the rotten weather, in comparison with BSP’s reports of perfect weather back at home, I was ready to swear off leaving The City forever. That really is a strange little town. Their taxi cabs are like all different colors, and they don’t turn the little roof light off when they pick people up. The subway (called the “Metro” in a pathetic attempt to sound almost as cool as every other city in the world) has only about three stations. And there’s all this sky everywhere. But we had a generally good time anyway, particularly at that fabulous UK-themed Fourth barbecue. Good food, nice people and rain. I realize now that Manhattan (between Canal and 110th Streets) is not the only place in the world. With enough alcohol, free food, the opportunity to verbally smack a few Republicans around, and with all my friends leaving town anyway, one really can have a good time in other places along the east coast. Next trip: Brooklyn.