We're staying with relatives here in a nice suburb of Texas. Pool, laundry, showers, and scrumptious dinners make it difficult for us to leave. But we have an agenda to keep up with, and if we stayed here it would only be for the comfort and hospitality of my aunt and cousins (and we'd never leave the house as there isn't much else for us to see around here).
We made a trip to the one tourist place that we all agreed was a must see - the Kennedy assassination spot, in Dallas. We made a 30 minute trip up there and were quickly greeted by men trying to sell us Dealy Plaza newspapers and give us short guided tours. I asked to see their credentials, and they asked for a dollar. One "guide" accosted Erin and Colin, and began spouting facts about that infamous day. I'm sure his theories about the grassy knoll were interesting enough, but I've already seen both the Mythbuster's and Penn and Teller's demystifying episodes on the subject.
We poked our heads inside the museum, and although the air conditioning felt splendid, the 14 dollar per person cost of entry seemed just rude to ask for at what should be a free/national/educational/monument to a president who was murdered from the premises.
The outside of the building was free to look at. We took pictures.
People stood in the middle of the street as cars passed by, trying to get a photo op next to the X that marks the first and second bullets that hit the president. We followed suit. My cousin was with us and felt it was his duty to lay on one of the X's for a snapshot, but soon realized that the asphault in Texas, in the middle of the day, was a little burny.
We all huddled together and discussed our theories on what happend that day in 1963. Although many theories were shared, including the one where Erin did it (which I'm leaning towards cause she's sneaky), we all agreed that little green aliens did it, from a planet called Grassie Knollia, somewhere in the vicinity of Beetlegeuse.
We dipped our toes in the Dealy Plaza pool and then made our way back to the sanctuary that we call my Aunt's home. It was a fun, yet brief, day trip.
As tourists from California here, I think we can safely say that we've done just about everything that needs to be done in Texas. Now off to New Orleans.
Written by Jeff,
from the inside of a small fortress,
somwhere in Northern Texas.
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Interesting post! But I disagree. Erin did not do it. It was obviously the diabolical work of Pat. After all, his name is the following anagram:
ReplyDeleteApt Anarchic Nark. 'Nuff said.