July 3, 2015


Everybody has a strange quirk. I have about 800 of them. Mine concerning Greenfield Village is kind of comical and sad at the same time.

In elementary school we frequently went on field trips and one of the big destinations was Greenfield Village. Except that I refused to go. It wasn't the trip itself nor the destination but the simple requirement that we dress up in old-time garb and carry a coffee can bucket. I didn't want to just like I didn't want to wear my Devil costume to school in kindergarten. Or was it 1st grade?

Either way, I wanted no part of it. I don't remember exactly why but I just didn't have it in me. Though I'm not positive which event it was, the Greenfield Village or Halloween dress-up, I hid behind my neighbor's house and a search party was sent out to look for me. Eventually my neighbor, who was the mother of one my best friends at the time, found me and I was returned home. Or was it school? I don't recall that either.

Anyway, I still have not gone to Greenfield Village and have refused all invitations to do so. It was probably my anti-Fascist, socialist-hating, Nazi-loathing instinct that has served me well in this disastrous life.

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