Last Saturday we drove to Gettysburg to give my sister a flavor of the Civil War. It was my third time to Gettysburg. A leadership-development class through work bused us there on a field trip for my first visit. They hired a riveting storyteller/Civil War historian as our guide and I soaked up volumes of information about the battle, 95% of which I've forgotten. Nevertheless, I remain one of the better informal battlefield guides around; perhaps you could term me a "$3 guide". You could hire someone for 50 bucks and maybe you’ll get your money's worth. Or you could hire me for 3 bucks... and probably not get your money's worth.
But one thing I’ve got going for me is I'll tell you things the other tour guides won't. For instance, you may be standing on Little Round Top and notice a large statue perched atop a rock overlooking the battlefield.You: Who's that?
Me: Oh, that's Warner. Or Sherman. I don't really remember his name.
You: So, what did he do and why is his statue there?
Me: He was surveying the battlefield from that rock. He heard rustling in the bushes behind him and thought it was a bear, so he hurled himself off the rock and died.
You: Really?
Me: No.
Or perhaps you're driving through town around lunchtime. You're hungry and you're about to turn into the McDonald's across from the Visitor's Center.Me: I wouldn't eat there if I were you.
You: Why?
Me: A couple of elderly folk ate there a few years ago and died of E Coli afterwards.
You: Really?
Me: No. But I like KFC better. Can we go there?
Even though I'm worth 3 bucks, I offered my services to my sister and Jayde for free. Shannon and our kids came along as well. Halen liked the motorcycles. He wants to be a hog when he grows up, and he knows his stuff. He ignored the wussy Gold Wings and scooted straight to the Harley Davidson. It's a shame his grandpa, who owns a Harley, doesn't know how to use the internet. He'd be so proud to see his grandson magnetically drawn to such a bad ol' motorbike.
With all the history flying around, the sunlight dancing off motorcycle chrome, and regular doses of peanut butter crackers, Halen needed some Mommy loves to keep it all in perspective. Shannon knows it's unwise to turn down free loves from a little boy; it might be 20 years before he feels so inclined again. If I had fewer scruples, I'd call this photo "Cammo Lovin'" and sell it to Anne Geddes. But I'm a commi, not a capitalist, and therefore believe this shot should be preserved for the communal good.