Today is Historical Society day at the Library. There are grown-up ladies as far as the eye can see. I had promised their leader I would attend and lay hands upon them, let them touch my garments, that sort of thing.
When the pleasantries are over, I let them run about for me, finding microfilm, setting up machines, leaning over me to point things out. It all seems to be grown-up lady heaven. It's nice to be useful.
The rest of the day is rather serious and boring. I'm moving on tomorrow, to, as it happens, the very last Glasgow, the one in Georgia near the Florida state line. So there is all the packing up, route checking, locating the motel nests.
Later that night, I find myself watching the local news. The bingo issue has caught fire again. I just knew, when I first saw it, that this story would run. The Governor is up to something, and has bussed in hundreds of supporters for a rally at the Capital. But the meeting is set-upon by mobs of enraged bingo players, mercilessly wielding their zimmer frames: it is clear that a lot of Bailey's has flowed down a lot of throats.
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1 comment:
So you've reached the final Glasgow at last. I hope your journey has and will continue to provide you with some amusement. I'm puzzled by your Lenten abstinence from beer. surely, you could have given something else up. I suppose that is just one of the perils of being Catholic. I look forward to your synopsis of your travels and hopefully a book(?). Enjoy your remaining time in the South. Missouri is just now coming out of the deep freeze. Best of luck to you......Tom
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