Cleveland Rocks!

Here we are trying to look like hard-core rockers in this self-portrait in front of the Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame. Instead, my husband looks like a nerdy bouncer who is trying to protect a bloated, drug-addled former child star. Yikes, next time we'll smile.

There are three things I don't like about Cleveland's Rock Hall of Fame: 1. It's in Cleveland when it should have been in Philadelphia. 2. The dim lighting makes it hard for anybody over the age of 29 to read the information plaques. 3. Madonna.

Otherwise, it's a great attraction and well worth the visit. At times, however, I was overwhelmed by the amount of artifacts. There's everything from Janis Joplin's Porsche to Ritchie Valens' roller skates to Elvis Presley's unpaid hotel bills.

Of course, there are a lot of guitars and a ton of costumes. I began to think that Jimi Hendrix is the only normal size person in rock history. Everybody else is teeny-tiny. The combined weight of all the Rolling Stones doesn't equal one 1980's Aretha Franklin.

The music playing over the sound system keeps everybody happy. It certainly is the most festive and upbeat museum we've ever visited.

I suppose if Philadelphia had won the bid for the Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame, we would have found a way to screw it up. How many times could you go to the Hall & Oats Wing to see the Lola Falana Tribute Show?

Later, we accidentally found the best place to watch the fireworks shot over the Cuyahoga River. We sat on the pier as the lights expoded just behind the Harold H. Burton Bridge. It was quite a beautiful sight.

Prior to the fireworks we had to search for a Cleveland Plain Dealer box so we could purchase today's paper. We got a hit to promote our Improv shows this week. No, my husband didn't say he looks like Drew Carey on crack. Don't believe everything you read... unless it's written by me.