So, I looked at Norristown's economy in a previous column, and I address parents, or the lack thereof, in this week's column So, which of these two elements do you think has kept Norristown from making a comeback. Or, do you have another alternative, such as subsidized housing, as one reader commented? I certainly know I don't have all the answers, but I do know it's time to seriously start searching for them.

Revitalization has been talked about in Norristown for more than two decades. What's the problem? Why can't this small town remake itself in the same way Phoenixville, West Chester, and a dozen other municipalities have? Perhaps the answer can be found in the people who live and work in Norristown.

This week's rant talks about all the nonsense taking place inside the beltway in our nation's capital. Do you agree with my assessment, or am I over-reacting?

Today's front page made the Top 10 list at the Newseum in Washington D.C. Very proud of my team in the newsroom. Adrianna Hoff took the photo and Gene Walsh and Cheryl Kehoe Rodgers worked on the design. Great work, all!

With just a day to go before the primary I thought keeping focus on what has become the forgotten election cycle would be in everyone’s best interest. But instead of harping on how low the turnout is going to be, how about we bring into view some of the things we actually need to fix on the political scene if we ever expect greater participation. Just for the record, though, and in case you missed last week’s rant, I’m predicting 21 percent turnout county wide and a paltry 13 percent for Norristown. So let’s focus on those who are going to do their civic duty and go to the polls. One of the most ridiculous, atrocious, 'oxymoronic' scenarios you can ever imagine plays out in the race for Court of Common Pleas. Judges, you know, those folks who are supposed to be the most impartial people on the planet, cross file. Cross file. Chew on that for a minute. I say we abolish cross filing once and for all. What do you say?

I want to take a couple of minutes to talk about this fairly new, at least to me, phenomenon, the fish taco. Now I’m a big fan of the taco, but I always thought of them as good when they were shoved full of meat. Not so fast, amigo. There are a lot of places offering up fish tacos these days, but I think I might have found the best. A new restaurant called Casa Bonita has opened up in Norristown. I tried their fish tacos, and not only was it a meal fit for a king, but they were absolutely excellent. A lot of places you go to serve up fairly dry fish tacos, but Casa Bonita adds a sauce across the top of theirs that not only takes the dryness away, but adds a kick that makes the dish. So, I’m throwing down a challenge to anyone out there reading this who thinks they know where the best fish taco can be found. My phone number, email address and Twitter handle are all below. Let me hear from you. And I wouldn’t be too surprised if I hear from some new place in East Norriton. You know, the new restaurant capital of Montgomery County. Stan Huskey is the editor of The Times Herald. He can be reached at 610-272-2500 ext. 215 or at shuskey@timesherald.com. Follow @StanHuskey on Twitter.

The year is 1994. The place is somewhere in Chester County, Pa. I was in Pennsylvania for the first time, looking for a place to live. Moving all the way from Texas to the Keystone State was going to be an experience I’d never forget, and one that would shape my life in ways only now imaginable, but I’ll save that for another column. I had spent a busy day looking for an apartment in and around West Chester. There are a lot of options, and I like to be thorough, so I had probably been to about 10 different complexes that day. One place in particular caught my fancy and I decided to sign on the dotted line. Sharples Works was converted from an old dairy. There are giant wooden beams running through the apartments that give them character well beyond what you find in most of your cookie-cutter complexes. Feeling rather good about finally making my decision I decided to celebrate with a cold beer. I was traveling along 202 South headed back to my hotel when I spotted a beer store and pulled into the lot. My flight didn’t leave until the next day so a six pack of Amstel Light would do just fine, I was thinking as I walked in the door and said hello to the gentleman behind the counter. I didn’t see a cooler anywhere, other than the restaurant style walk-ins, so I told the fine fellow what I wanted, and asked where I could find it, looking around at the stacks of cases of beer. “I can’t sell you a six-pack,” he said. “What?” I said, completely taken off guard. “We don’t sell six-packs here,” he said. Thinking he was pulling my leg because of what was then a still lingering southern accent, I said something along the lines of what’s the matter, you about to run out? “No, no,” he said. “We don’t sell six packs here.” “You don’t sell six-packs in Pennsylvania?” “Not in beer stores,” he said. I kind of pride myself on having just a tad bit more common sense than your average Joe, but I was more than stumped at his reply. “Well, what do you sell?” I asked as politely as possible. “Cases only,” he responded. “Seriously,” I said. “But I only want a six-pack to take back to my hotel and relax by the pool.” Now I was really parched. “Why would I have to buy more than I want to drink?” I asked, still not getting the reasoning of the cases-only policy. Finally, after what seemed like a convoluted “Who’s on First?” routine, he informed me that I could go to the bar down the street and they would sell me a six-pack of Amstel Light. I half-heartedly thanked him for the education and headed to the bar to purchase my six-pack. When I walked up to the counter I remember mumbling something along the lines of, what are you doing here in Pennsylvania, promoting alcoholism? “What?” the young lady behind the bar asked. “Nothing, nothing,” I back-pedaled. “I just can’t believe I was just at a beer store and couldn’t buy the beer I wanted. Can I get a six-pack of Amstel Light, please?” When she rang me up, I was starting to see the light, and I’m not talking about the Amstel she was putting into a plastic bag. The price was about twice what it should have been. When I said as much she informed me that I could get it a lot cheaper at the beer store down the road if I bought it by the case. Thus began my education on the antiquated liquor laws here in the great state of Pennsylvania. While nothing has changed in the 20 years since, I have grown accustomed to making a stop at the beer store if I’m in the mood for a cold one, and the wine and spirits store if I’m in the mood for a glass of merlot. I also was careful to go during the week knowing at the time neither were open on Sundays. Thankfully, the good sense to allow them both to open up on Sundays finally prevailed. So I’ve been following the possible privatization of Pennsylvania’s liquor stores with some interest during the past few months. The state House passed a bill to do just that and it’s headed for the Senate, where hopefully, common sense will prevail once again. Convenience for a guy trying to buy a six-pack after a long day of apartment hunting is one thing, competition is another. Plain and simple, the state shouldn’t be in the liquor-selling business, and that was never more clear than when they started bottling their own wine and placing it on the shelves right next to the bottles produced by the hard-working folks at our local wineries and wineries across the country. A little common sense, and a brief lesson in capitalism, should make that point crystal clear. The year is 2013. The place is Montgomery County, Pa. I’ve been living here for nearly 20 years. I think it’s about time my now home state comes up to speed with every other state I’ve lived in. Stan Huskey is the editor of The Times Herald. He can be reached at 610-272-2500 ext. 215 or at shuskey@timesherald.com. Follow @StanHuskey on Twitter.