One reason I like folk festivals like the Clearwater Hudson River Revival (June 21-22, 2008), is the chance to hear new groups. My 2007 Clearwater favorite was three women singing as Red Molly. By chance, biking through central New York, I heard them again. They’re very good singers and instrumentalists with great songs and – in the time-honored-folk-tradition – a corny patter. They seemed to never play NYC until now. . Your one chance to hear them is Feb. 1 at 9PM at The Living Room at 154 Ludlow Street on NYC's Lower East Side: No Cover, One Drink Minimum. One 50 minute set. They’re playing for tips and may get to hawk their CDs. I don’t know if they need a geezer-rock following, but I plan to go. If you want to check them out without leaving your keyboard, listen to a clip or two here .

Sun-burnt, bug-bit, and aching, I coasted into Albany, NY with 500 or so others bicyclists who rode the 400 miles from Buffalo along the Erie Canal. It was a physical challenge, a wonderful chance to meet a huge range of riders and to see parts of Western New York up close and personal. (Do you wonder why even older, less fit riders did better than I did? Click here for Gina Kolata's explanation)

While I read no newspapers and looked only once at a computer, I did speak to many upstaters. The first thing I learned is that there is no such place as upstate.

We read and write about "upstate Republicans" or the need "upstate" for economic development. "Upstate" is too broad a brush for the varied communities to our North and West.

Even rust belt cities like Buffalo, Rochester, Syracuse, Schenectady defy generalization. Some have gentrifying waterfronts, others seem utterly in ruins. When the plants closed, the bars, beauty salons, car dealers and supermarkets closed too, so many communities feel ghostly with empty store after empty house.