Well, on April 1, my parents and my brother - Nathan (15) took a trip to a Creation (as opposed to Evolution) museum in Kentucky. This trip, I am sorry to say, was conducted by the Padans, and was comprised of Homeschoolers, of which I am regretful member. We drove to some unknown church in some unknown place in Fort Wayne and boarded one of three buses which would take us to our Kentucky-bound destination. As you can imagine, there were a bunch of hyper-active children and softy-parents aboard encouraging the "stimulation" of their young ones. The bus-driver's name, to me and my brothers quiet "cleche-unbelief", was Bob. Bob the bus driver. yah. Ok, Bob. Oh yeah, and then Bob just happened to think that, since there were no suggestions as to the bus-wide entertainment, he could just go ahead and play his all-to-annoying music over the bus-speakers which was something like country-star88-3-mellow-dumness.
Before I go on, I will mention that I have been to Kentucky before, and it was to an military base where my uncle was posted awaiting his shipping to Iraq. The doors of this base were guarded by two bored-looking guys holding the clumsiest looking machine guns I've ever seen and wearing those beret-thingys that kinda made them look like those french painter dudes. However, as far as I know, besides that single military base, Kentucky is no special place. I mean, you never hear people say, "Where should we go for Spring Break?"
"How 'bout Utah?"
"Naw, too boring."
"Let's go to California, man, and Hollywood!!"
"Naw, I got a better idea. Let's go to Kentucky."
I mean, reaaally.
Anyway, the point is, If someone suggests to go to Kentucky for Christmas or something, you should just look at them like they're idiots.
So, as we rolled through the dull scenery of farmy Indiana, and as Bob cranked out the same three or four annoying songs over and over, I payed no attention. It was four 'O clock int the morning and I had no desire for conversation with Mr. "Hand me my DS, mom" sitting behind me. So, on the way to Kentucky, I washed this out with my music and ocassionally exchanged mutually-annoyed glances with my brother whenever we heard a pathetic homeschooler-comment from some dorky kid sitting behind us. (by the way, we were at the very front of the bus, right above the driver.) And I listened to the goods: Yellowcard, Emery, Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, He Is Legend, Vanessa Carlton; you name it. And what made me content is the thought that the music I was listening to was probably "inappropriate" for the children behind me. As I cranked up "Attack of the Dungeon Witch", those little suckers played like dum little card games.
Before I go on, I will mention that I have been to Kentucky before, and it was to an military base where my uncle was posted awaiting his shipping to Iraq. The doors of this base were guarded by two bored-looking guys holding the clumsiest looking machine guns I've ever seen and wearing those beret-thingys that kinda made them look like those french painter dudes. However, as far as I know, besides that single military base, Kentucky is no special place. I mean, you never hear people say, "Where should we go for Spring Break?"
"How 'bout Utah?"
"Naw, too boring."
"Let's go to California, man, and Hollywood!!"
"Naw, I got a better idea. Let's go to Kentucky."
I mean, reaaally.
Anyway, the point is, If someone suggests to go to Kentucky for Christmas or something, you should just look at them like they're idiots.
So, as we rolled through the dull scenery of farmy Indiana, and as Bob cranked out the same three or four annoying songs over and over, I payed no attention. It was four 'O clock int the morning and I had no desire for conversation with Mr. "Hand me my DS, mom" sitting behind me. So, on the way to Kentucky, I washed this out with my music and ocassionally exchanged mutually-annoyed glances with my brother whenever we heard a pathetic homeschooler-comment from some dorky kid sitting behind us. (by the way, we were at the very front of the bus, right above the driver.) And I listened to the goods: Yellowcard, Emery, Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, He Is Legend, Vanessa Carlton; you name it. And what made me content is the thought that the music I was listening to was probably "inappropriate" for the children behind me. As I cranked up "Attack of the Dungeon Witch", those little suckers played like dum little card games.
So, after like forever, we pulled into the museum, which was of fair size, and everyone got off there buses. It took like forever for everyone to get congregated in front of the museum doors.
1 comment:
This was one of my more enjoyable reads.
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