Live from Lehighton...it's Saturday night!

I am writing from my hometown, borrowing my parents' computer to peruse the net and file another missive on this bad boy.

My wife and I came up for a brief visit this weekend, one that will last little more than 24 hours but involves a family celebration. So it was kind of important that we come.

Plus, we were able to finally pay off my mom. We promised her a dinner for Mother's Day, but during our visit to Delaware Park, we lost some money (damn horses) and couldn't find a suitable restaurant for her day. So today was the day to make it up.

The four of us all ventured to Allentown to a place called the King George Inn. Dinner was very good and rather pricey as well - aided in no small part by the several Yuenglings I enjoyed. But I was happy to take care of the bill.

The ride back was a bit depressing, however, for reasons I can't quite explain - particularly once we hit the small burb of Bowmanstown. There was a restaurant open, another stand-alone restaurant open and ... well ... nothing. Something about those really small towns where nothing is happening becomes somewhat depressing for me.

I glanced over at an appliance shop, one that's been there for decades and prominently displays a big Whirlpool logo on the front face of the brick building. It looked lonely there, all dark.

Obviously, this whole region - even in the bigger cities of Allentown, Bethlehem and Easton - are all far, far different than Northern Virginia. To me, there's something comforting about openness and seeing buildings lit up and ready for customers; NoVa has plenty of it, 24 hours a day. Here, much less so, which probably isn't surprising, since this county has around 30,000 people. (The city of Alexandria alone has nearly 200,000 in 33 times less space.)

Saturday evening would seem to be the time when restaurants would be buzzing and people - not everyone, but someone - would be out and about. But the restaurant/station combo seemed devoid of customers, either filling up with gas or food.

Perhaps that's why I find Sunday nights so depressing; traditionally, stores and shops close much earlier, leading to that dark, closed feeling.

Or maybe it's just because I'm thinking too much again. This stuff probably doesn't bother 99+ percent of the population, yet it rattles around my head.