JFK Assassination Site (Dealey Plaza) and Fort Worth(Cowboy Central)

BAM!

Two shots were heard as a motorcade passed by on Dealy Plaza, carrying the then president of the United States in it's many seats. John F. Kennedy, a 3 year (so far) president had been campaigning for Texas, and it was very vital for his reelection. His wife, Jackie, saw him lean forward in his seat, and blood splatter as red as the colors on the flag of USSR that JFK had dare defy in the Cold War. The beloved president, that had urged the Peace Corps and helping the poor and troubled, even though controversial and had some mistakes in The Bay of Pigs Invasion, was killed? The people of Dallas that day had come thinking they would see a good speech by the Democratic Former Navy Officer, origins in MA, but instead, a shot, a lean forward, and an end to the good cheer of the day, or the week, or even the month. Crowds ran and fled, fearing more shots from the unseen assassin. A daughter and mother tripped and made their way through the running crowd, no strings attached, everyone just trying to get away safely with their friends and family, with little to no accord to other strangers in the large mass of people. Meanwhile, Agent Youngblood, valiantly and bravely, shielded LBJ and Lady Bird's bodies with his own, saying to get down and to the driver to drive. This was on November 22nd, 1963. A day the world will never forget.

The rest is history: literally. An autopsy, although it was obvious what killed the president, was provided after they took him to a trauma hospital around the area. On Air Force One, LBJ was quickly sworn in by Judge Sarah T. Hughes, and the local police force (because in that time assassination of a president wasn't a national crime) worked to find their killer. But, I won't tell you any more, because you will find out in due time...later in the blog. But for now, let's talk about OUR part in the story of JFK's assassination, only a small, insignificant part, where we went to the 6th Floor Museum in Downtown Dallas, finding some information about it and the man's legacy. Earlier we had seen the home website. On the 6th of February, exactly one month before today, after getting ready to go for the day in the little R.V. park called Cowtown, we now embarked on the journey. I got my A Tramp Abroad book written by Mark Twain (I had read that Adventurous Deeds of Deadwood Jones, and it was really good, on the day we had gotten my hair cut) and went in the car, with a break from my cowboy clothes I had worn earlier. But, at the last minute I put it on, because we were in Texas. At this stage it actually didn't make sense to put the attire on; for I hadn't seen one cactus or desert in Texas at all. It might change later though...

Downtown Dallas was kind of the same as Austin, although there was a break in the skyscrapers, separation between Fort Worth and Dallas, which we wanted to see later in the day. There was this thing they call the Spaghetti Roads, twisting and zig-zag highways, over and under and under and over, that cars wizzed along like bees to their honey. Trucks mainly, but a few small cars. Even a few R.V.'s. Typing in the GPS address, we came into all the buildings, and came into a big square surrounded by brick and glass buildings, with grass growing in the center, a few monuments. I wondered what one of them was about and who the figure of stone was. I looked around at this historic site of the assassination that all our teachers and parents had talked about, them saying that it was one of the most mysterious events of the 21st Century. Why did Lee Harvey Oswald kill JFK? DID he kill JFK? If so, why and did he work alone? These questions and more were on the minds of many Americans, and still are today. I didn't have an opinion, and wasn't picking any sides and thinking that any idea was on the board then. But, I decided I would make an opinion on the subject and state my claim who killed JFK. I thought about it as the GPS made us turn in a parking lot. The visit had begun.

It was a fairly sized parking lot, looking on the street and around Dallas. There was a brick building with large windows that said 6th Floor Museum in green and white. It wasn't a National Park (isn't that odd?) however, a private Museum or a state one, I didn't really know. We wished that it would be worth our money as we walked in a side door, with signs of a cafe and gift shop around. Did it have 6 floors and was that why it was named the 6th Floor Museum? Or because Oswald supposedly was on this floor when he shot JFK? The latter seemed more of the answer. In there was a counter, from where we entered, and big pictures taking up the walls, most of them in black and white. There was JFK waving and even the young son of him saluting. Images that moved a nation, and more than just one nation. We went up and paid a big amount for the tickets, getting the audio tapes. I hope this isn't a scam, please don't be a scam, I urged. Around the corner to the right in the green painting lobby, a lady gave us the tapes that were like the ones at MLKJ's assassination site. They told us to go to the 6th floor by pressing the 6th floor on the museum, as we came into the elevator. Then, with a ding, we traveled up, up, up, up!

There was just a black wall to look at as we went up in the elevator, but now we looked from a high view over some of the skyscrapers of Dallas, Texas. We walked now into a large museum environment, a lot of those museum blocks with the words and artifacts, low ceiling, with all around. All of the space, besides the walking parts, had museum stuff inhabiting it. Mom had trouble with her audio tape but got it to work later. I looked at the block I was facing, with a wall and window to my right, the only way to go being left. The man on the audio talked about the world as it was in the 50's and 60's, the Peace Movement and Civil Rights, with a lot of pictures. It was the kids in rebellion of their parents. I read one to the right, doing the audio thing. Pretty interesting, talking about the world events, the Cold War, and the Soviet Union. As I turned right and entered another section of this where Most of the stuff was on the right, there was some info there with a picture of JFK and his supporters, that in the debates with Nixon JFK was calm and charming, and that the younger people liked his young spirit better. The other one had pop culture stuff of the 60's, Science Fiction novels, Ernest Hemmingway, and magazines and CD's, such as the Beatles. The museum was interesting...so far.

The next few blocks were about the first few years of JFK's presidency, his working toward the Peace Corps and helping to end poverty. He went in the third world countries, with his Vice President LBJ by his side. I went down the thing, taking my time and being rather slow at it, with the others in front of me. Pretty soon I abandoned the audio tape as I did at the Biblical Art Museum, and just read the captions and plaques. It was a lot more interesting. JFK urged young people to do the whole Peace Corps, and I saw more pictures of JFK in Africa and such. There, to the right facing the alcove I was in, was a bio about JFK and his family in MA, that he grew up wealthy and went into the Navy, saving mens' lives in a sub that had been sunken by a Japan bomber, and becoming a Democratic Senator. It was interesting. I read a lot about how JFK really hated the Soviet Union, and promised to America that we would put a man on the moon at the end of the decade, and him assigning LBJ to the Space Program. There was a movie out of a small T.V. that kind of summed up his presidency, and I watched that, standing uncomfortably as one does in a museum, with some other people. I liked the movie, and I saw that this young president was witty and funny. That is, before he died.

As I read about this really cool and seemingly nice man, I wondered why anybody would even kill him for any good reason. It made no sense. But, however, killing anybody makes no sense. Just because of their actions or political standings doesn't mean their life should be sacrificed for it, unless those views but multiple people from many backgrounds in danger, an example being a terrorist's views. But Kennedy wasn't a terrorist. On that biography thing there was, I read that his brother, and his son were both killed after he was. Later in the museum I would make an opinion of his death, and this would be one of the leading facts for my statement, that others have made.

There was another small alcove, which talked about why they were in Dallas Texas (to gain support for the 1964 Presidential Election) that the Secret Service had a hard time for the upcoming day because of JFK's habit to mingle with the crowds, and how at lunch they were going to go to a center in Dallas for a luncheon with civic and business leaders at Dallas Trade Mart. Then, instead of the month by month or year by year timeline that had reigned prior, now it was minute by minute, talking about the arrival in Texas by Air Force One, and the other cities they stopped before going there at Love Field. The morning of Friday on November 22nd in 1963 looked optimistic and good, and they got in the motorcade. Then came times, numbers and dates of the motorcade turning corner to corner. The Governor was in the motorcade with JFK and Jackie, and LBJ and Lady Bird followed in their car. It told me exactly which seats held which people, the drivers, the agents, all in great detail. They went onto Elm Street, which even in 1963 before Freddie Cougar or any of that horror junk, proved to be close to the site of mass tragedy, about to occur. Then they went on different highways and on Main Street, also Houston Street, two streets that we had previously rode on when going to the 6th Floor Museum.

It broke down into minutes, now, the motorcade traveling on Dealy Plaza, and that last memorial photo of JFK waving to the people of Dallas, minutes or only seconds before the fatal shot. Nellie Connally, the First Lady of Texas, remarked, "Mr. President, you can't say Dallas doesn't love you" and JFK smiled and nodded. Then, it happened. A shot presumably came from the 6th floor of the Texas School Book Depository. John Connally said he thought he heard a rifle shot come from somewhere. Kennedy was caught on tape from a Zapruder, and I looked at the frightening and horror-filled black and white images that was on the large block that I looked at, the small pictures. 155. 171. 190. 215. 222. These were the shots that are only (that we know) of Kennedy falling forward in his seat, and then the blood, black in color on the Zapruder, splattering in different directions. The governor actually got shot, a fact among many I didn't know before coming there. The bullet hit him in the right shoulder, and it hurt him a lot, as he yelled "Oh no no no no. My God. There going to kill us all!" in exasperation. JFK, president of the United States, was dead, shot by an unknown sniper. The day was going to be one of the worst in America's history.

Through a hallway I was now into the opposite side of this sixth floor, and Mom and everyone one else was way in front of me; I didn't rightly know where they were. I looked at a glass box that held some cardboard boxes, with it facing a window, and saw the sign saying this was as it would've looked the day the detectives looked at it trying to find Kennedy's killer, and this was the supposed (I say that because some people believe Oswald didn't do the crime) spot where Oswald crouched with his rifle and fired the shot that killed JFK. I was literally then looking history straight in the face, this is the spot that caused what all the adults and teachers describe as such a terrible day and what people have talked about for decades since, and mourned about. This was the spot where Oswald probably, most likely, killed John F. Kennedy, and ended a great life forever. Behind me was news reports and old computers and typewriters, the first local newspapers sending telegrams and such saying that JFK died. I looked at that famous telecast with the Walter Cronkite guy taking off his glasses and tearing up. Then there were a few museum panels and blocks about them trying to keep him alive at Parkland Hospital. At 1:00 P.M. CST, John F. Kennedy was officially announced dead.

Meanwhile, LBJ didn't go to the luncheon, and was sworn in on Air Force One, and I've already mentioned that so I won't talk about that any longer. They were fearing an attack on the vice president, and so they got him back to Washington D.C. with lightning speed. The local Dallas Police force talked to witnesses who most of them said (some of them weren't accurate or didn't hear any thing over all the hubbub) that they heard the shots from a building behind all the parade stuff, in the Texas School Book Depositary, on the 5th of 6th floor, the building we were in right now. I was now in another room not unlike the other one, with a little opening to a maze of blocks and museum panels. There was a large open space on the left side, the side I was at. I saw Dad in one of the alcoves, the thing that wound around into the left, if you know what I mean, which you probably don't. To the right was just all the museum stuff, and to the left straight down, well, little to nothing. I read more about the people awaiting the news at the luncheon, praying that he wouldn't be announced dead. A Catholic Priest, because JFK was Catholic, did a little prayer on him before he died. People around the world tuned up their radios and turned on the T.V., hoping for some good news. And people around the world cried, the tears rushing down, when they found out that he had died. Young and old, male and female, kid and elderly, poor and rich, Christian or secular, famous or not so famous, cried. And cried.

I went into the alcove, after looking at a menu from the luncheon that actually went forward with it's plans and commenced, with awkward and red-eyed from the tears somberness at the untimely death. I went into the alcove, seeing Dad again, and talked to him, speculating and adding my opinion about what I had seen so far, JFK's presidency and everything up to that moment, the stuff I had seen and what I had thought of it. It wasn't talking for long, as Dad told me to read more and that he had to go do something. I read sadly about all the people around the world who loved him because of the Peace Corps and what he did for their country. There was an entry way to a dark room with benches and a screen, pretty medium sized. Mom and Rebecca were seated there. I came in slowly, and slid up to them. I got in the middle of a very moving and grieving of everyone around the world, in Japan, Africa, Kenya, Europe, France, England, all making shrines, memorials, and all in their different ways, like a poster on the Great Wall of China and a statue in Brazil. Very sad. But there was no narration, just captions and music, which made it have that special something. We also watched the black clothed funeral in Washington D.C., and JFK's son saluting him as he was put into the grave and the torch was lit. A 9 gun salute. A proper funeral for a war veteran and President, that I wished never happened.

I liked the museum too, but I also wished that it was never made, because it was made for the assassination of JFK and to tell information about the day and the site. I know people have gotten jobs and made money for it, but at what cost? A man's life? Mom and Rebecca left, leaving me alone because they had already seen the part I was now watching. They assured me it would be fine; Dad was going to come and sit with me also. And he did, later, and then Rebecca came back and said that they had finished the floor and were gonna go to the gift shop. Then she left, and they went down, while we saw the end of the movie and got up.The rest of the alcove was about Abraham Zapruder who made the film pictures I had seen earlier, and that the local police force tracking down Lee Harvey Oswald who worked there at the Depository, and how he had a gun in the little basement they found him in. He had been living in Russia a little, and was a retired Marine who was always in trouble. He profoundly denied being the one to shoot Kennedy, and was going to be transported from the one in Dallas. Jack Ruby, an owner of a bar and club who's face vaguely resembled Al Capone, intercepted Oswald and all the police in the basement about before the door, while news media asked all the juicy questions. I saw a...well I need to now start a new paragraph.

Like I was saying, I saw a video on the left side of the hallway, out of a small screen, and all the people gathered around in the concrete area, with Oswald in his weasel like looking, with those dreadful eyes and the up black hair, how small he was... ooh it gave me the shivers. He answered a question saying he didn't know he was being tried as the president's assassin until they had already long taken him into custody. Now, Oswald was a Marxist, and a Leftist, and he supported Castro in Cuba, having dealings with Russia and the Soviet Union. Jack Ruby, pistol barely even concealed, shot Oswald at point blank with all these people here, and I saw the picture of him aching in pain and the newscaster's voice in the background screaming and repeating, "OSWALD IS SHOT! OSWALD IS SHOT! HOLEY MOLEY!" Okay, so the rest is history, Jack Ruby goes into jail and he testifies that he was such a lover of JFK and that he was just in disbelief and enraged at the assassination. I don't believe that an assassination of an assassin has taken place and been so famous at that one before or even now, perhaps. Now, I know that Oswald was probably a terrible guy, but I kinda wish that he had been given a chance at trial so people would know why he killed the president and if he acted alone. It will forever be a mystery...only God knows.

The rest of the museum out of the alcove and at the end of the big room was about the FBI's investigations, and the ballistic tests and readings and all the automatic evidence, people evidence (there was a row of panels with witnesses' accounts), all explained descriptively on the block, with a large diorama of Dealy Plaza and surrounding areas, that the bullet would have gone at a slant, and hit him in the back, that it must of come from there. Also was the rifle used to kill JFK. I went over to the end of the hall. Then there was the Warren Commission, and all of that in court and all of the different tests. I yawned; this wasn't as interesting as the rest of the museum and took a little bit of thought for me to clearly understand all the science and criminal evidence. I looked at the documents and panels with tired legs, and an empty stomach. The rest was about how Bill Clinton (real name William Jefferson Blythe) did an updated investigation with modern technology, with the same results. Who killed JFK? If Oswald, did he work alone or was he backed and/or persuaded by the Leftists? This was the question that the last few blocks asked, telling all the theories and how all those books were published on the subject, with everything from UFO's to a government cover up to the FBI to the Soviets to the Mafia. Who killed JFK?

I turned right, to a big corridor with Dad sitting at a bench with elevators by there, and then a stairs behind that and an opening to yet another movie room the same size as that funeral one.

The second to last big wide museum block was really cool, a panel asking the question, sort of white and see-through, with tons of books behind it on a shelf, big and small, all saying things like JFK'S Assassination: New Info Revealed or The Leftist Assassin; Was it the FBI? and at these dozens of others. I looked at that for a little, the Private Museum that the 6th Floor Museum posting anything they want, even the whole government thing, which a National Park wouldn't do, of course. Then I made up my decision I had been musing over all day, deciding where I stood on who or what or what group of people killed John Fitzgerald Kennedy. I said that since Oswald was a Marxist and Leftist that the Soviets, who had some beef with the whole Kennedy's and whose Mafia JFK and RK (Robert Kennedy) tried to stop and did several bad things to, that Oswald was either payed, persuaded, or told to kill JFK by those people, or he did it on his own because of his views. I don't really know for sure, but that's my opinion. I just wished that this man was never killed on that dreadful day of November 22nd, 1963, the day the world...will never forget. Even though that was a day the world will never forget, JFK was also... a man the world will never forget.

The final panel block was by in front of the movie part. It talked about his legacy, how he was a great man who saved the US from the Cuban Missile Crisis becoming nuclear war, and how he wanted to help the poor and in pain with the Peace Corps. The writer of that block stated that for years to come, and still now, JFK is known for what he did, but more known for what he could've done...if the assassination had never occurred. He died young, as many great people do, and he was a great man, for the time he lived. He helped even put a man on the moon. He did many great things, but he could've done a lot of more great things... if he didn't die. JFK was pretty sure A OK, if you ask me. The MA Senator had that wit and charm, that Northern accent, up until the minutes that he did die. I have such a hatred for a man who would kill a man like that, and it's terrible Oswald did. But that's history, I suppose, with it's ups and downs. Sadly.

John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) R.I.P.

I didn't have time to watch the movie because Dad ended the phone call he was on and told me to come down. Down into an elevator we came out into a gift shop, with Mom on the bench in front of us by all the audio cart with the lady. The museum had totally not been a scam. Rebecca wasn't with her. Mom said that she had gone up, looking for us. Mom went and got her and they came down together. We looked in the small gift shop on the block, and I looked at some books but all of the ones about the assassination would either be opinionated or just tell me the info I had learned at the museum, so I didn't get one. However, I did see a museum about history which was cool, but it was a DK and big so I could buy it off of Ebay maybe when we return to Roswell in June. (Dad's trying to stretch it 'til July or August, but I don't think that that will happen.) We got in the car and drove off, putting in our GPS the coordinates for Fort Worth, the old cowboy town. I was suddenly glad I had worn my cowboy suit; now was the time where Texas would start to look like the Texas of John Wayne, Hondo, the Lone Ranger, and Buffalo Bill. I was about to get that Texas as we rode into Forth Worth. Not the Texas desert, however, but the Texas town.

The next few paragraphs describes this cool place - The Stockyards in Fort Worth, TX.

They were mostly brown buildings, with old signs and that western feel, boots and cowboy stores everywhere, with cowboy hatted men, saloons, and gift shop places. That double swing door was used almost everywhere here. We went up through a railroad tracks into the hilly area, and we looked at cow and rodeo places with all the metal gates and little areas, with the stinky smelly cows present. I liked this cool cowboy town. We parked at the top of a hill that was higher from a boot store, which we were going to go to because Rebecca "NEEDED" to get boots in Texas, because it made it special or something. I can't blame her though; sometimes I do the same thing. We went down the smoky streets, and I tripped after gluing my eyes (not literally) to the glass display which had a piercing rattlesnake. In doing so, I tripped and fell on my face. I quickly got back up, hardly rattled, just a little limp. That snake was in the midst of a tattoo parlor, and later on our return we would see a man actually with the needles putting tattoos on another guy. Shivers. I'm never getting a tattoo; it's like painting your body, eternally when you can't take this thing off again. I don't think necessarily people who have tattoos are evil or something, but I am totally not getting one of those things.

We walked down, and went through a door on the corner, where it was facing a monument, bulls being led by a cowboy on a horse. There were also glass displays in the windows of this place, with cowhides and a counter to the left where you pay for things. A few men said hello to us, and they were a lot nicer and more helpful than the others. Two 30 to 50 women, and one old man, that we saw first. He showed Rebecca, going to the left toward some boots, some of them, being very nice and grandpa-ish - sorry that's the only way I can describe his character. He later told us his name was Dubby. Dubby had been there, born and raised, for all his life and had gotten a family and grandchildren there. That was pretty cool. Rebecca didn't like many of these boots, saying they were too young for her or too girly, she didn't like white, brown, pink, or anything else. I left my Tramp book and went down a step into another place, and I asked one of the ladies where the bathroom was. This was another room about the same size, and I went to the rest room and came back out. It was only a little outhouse inside, if that makes sense. I went back up, and Mom was there. She told me I needed a belt, that my jeans were getting big. Then came the boring thing called trying on things.

A weird guy with grey hair that was not on his forehead helped me try them on, telling me that men put the belt in on the left side, with women doing the right side. He told me that he had no sizes that fitted me, and it was either for me to lose a lot of weight in the next months or get big. It was meant to be funny, but it wasn't. That guy was nice, I guess. A little weird. Well, they didn't have many boots that Rebecca liked, in her profound standards, but that dude actually did find one that fit close to me, and I just had to stretch it a little. It was with a silver belt buckle. Pretty nice. Dad, as we were exiting the building planning to go to another boot store to get the boots for Rebecca, asked where the famous Billy Bob's Bar, the largest bar in the world, with more than 48 of them, was. The weird guy said it was just across the street, the big building. They also recommended to go to a boot and hat store called White's, which might have more selection for Rebecca being young and a girl. Thanking them, on our way out we told them about the trip, and I held the door for guys taking saddles. Fort Worth is cool; if you want to become a cowboy all you have to do is move there. Everybody is a cowboy there. Not one Jersey boy or city girl among them. Except Spencer.

Rebecca and I went to those bulls and cattle, and I remembered the cowboys of the Deadwood Jones book, and how they led all the cows along. We took pictures on them. Then we crossed a street and came in front of a big building called Billy Bob's. The window with the counter and lobby smelled of smoke, and we didn't go in but got some pictures. After we were done, we got back into our car, driving down to White's store front, and parking by that on the road. Dad wanted to know if the place was racist, but later in the visit the person working there would say that that was not true, they named it that because the building has white paint on the store front. Pretty simple, actually. Walking in, we saw on the fronts a grand selection of kid's hats and boots, plus little toy guns. There was a square counter in the middle, with a door into the rest of their store. A little littler than the other one. A little littler... funny. But anyhow, Rebecca and Mom for the next 30 minutes did the whole boot thing, and I tried on a few hats, reading and talking to a lady named Shannon about Mark Twain, and she said she didn't really watch much of the SuperBowl which was only the last night. I liked a lot of those ads...

She had blonde hair into a pony tail. I asked her if she knew who she was, and she said he was some kind of writer. For the rest of the evening I asked another lady who helped out Rebecca with her boots and a young guy, and all knew. I talked to the lady that helped Rebecca a lot, and she actually asked me if I wanted a sarsaparilla. I had heard of this famous drink before, but wondered if it was okay to have it, and asked Mom, a little shy. The lady led me to the other room where a counter was and she got a bottle out, and said if I didn't like it my parents could get it. It was horrible. Mom later told me it was also called Root Beer. Rebecca thankfully got boots, nice red ones, there. We said goodbye and left, walking for a long time among the stock yards and in a fairground, where a parade was going to go. There was an empty country mall where we went to the restroom, the concrete floor and everything. We went home and had a quiet evening. I liked the 6th Floor Museum, although it was kind of sad. It was cool to see Forth Worth also. Okay, so now I guess we had begun to see the Texas I had planned on seeing and wanted to see... and in the next blog post and in the one after that we'll see more of that Texas I wanted to see. Goodbye for now.

A rootin' tootin' cowboy with some bootins' that went on lootin' resembles that new Russian guy, Putin',

Andrew.

Unfortunately, we were not allowed to take photos, but here are some links...
www.jfk.org/


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sixth_Floor_Museum_at_Dealey_Plaza

Biblical Art Museum

THIS IS THE 303RD BLOG POST OF BOURNE'S BIG TRIP!!!! FIRST IT WAS LEAVING AND THE FIRST DAY, AND THEN IT WAS THE MARK TWAIN HOUSE, WHICH WAS THE 100TH POST, AND THEN IT WAS DRIVE TO KENTUCKY AND IT WAS THE 200TH. THIS IS THE 303RD. Thank you so much for reading all the posts and staying true, I really appreciate this experience and the information that I get to write about it and remember forever. Please continue reading, we might not get to 400 as there are only four months remaining in the trip, but we might. 32 followers and even more readers who didn't sign up to follow. That's pretty good. HAVE A GREAT DAY!!!!!

Mom and I love the Bible. And Rebecca does too, although she hasn't read it as much. But she loves art. So it was a good combination for us to be going to The Biblical Art Museum in Dallas Texas on the 5th of March, Sunday. We listened to an audio tape on the road as we did the last Sunday, although this one didn't work, and was the old one, because they hadn't downloaded the other one yet. So we didn't really do any sermons, sadly. But, on the other hand, we were sure to learn something interesting at the BIBLICAL art museum, where we would see Bible stuff. We came to a parking lot on a small hill, with a flat roof and a goldish and sandstone color. The parking lot looked pretty vacant, actually. Out of the car, we brought our cameras, and we tried to find the entrance, as the wind blew slightly. We found a side entrance under a car port with the columns and everything, and then walked into a threshold with a T.V. attached to the wall on the right and another unrealistic painting of Mary to the left. We walked into a big reception hall, and there was a large square counter with a young man behind there, white skin and brown hair on his sides and a broad forehead that has no hair on it. We walked in, and he said hello to us.

Behind him was a large hallway, and there was a door to a gift shop, and then more openings to a back place, and then further on was a rectangular ceiling with glass display cases. We walked up, as the nice young man explained the things to us. No photography, because of copyright reasons from the owners and artists of the paintings. People start usually to the left to get a taste of it, and then (and he showed us a white map) stay in the American Artists place, and make their way to a huge painting that had Jesus coming out of the tomb, like 72 feet long by 12 feet high, which is a long painting indeed. He told us that there was a large painting that was world renowned here, but sadly it burned down in the 90's, along with a lot more of the museum. The guy was nice. He said on the South Colonnade that there was a traveling exhibit, about the King James Bible as the 400th anniversary was in 2011. The guy also told us a lot of information about the museum, and that there was a very large painting, 40 feet high and 70 feet long, and it was called "History in Art" with a whole lot of famous people, that in our stay we had to see it. He gave us some audio tour stuff, and I put on the earplugs as we got ready to go in. I asked this guy his name. Nick.

He told us about how Michalangeo did this David piece, and that later a guy did it again in Bronze. It was a smaller version of David looking like a fashion model and standing like one, with a hat and tunic, and sling. The one behind was of a hat, and Goliath's head was under his sandals. It looked very real, and the bronze glistened off of it. I decided right then and there that from now on, I wouldn't look at the caption beside the painting, but rather look at the painting first, determine what Bible story or picture or person from the Bible it was, and then look at the caption to see if I was right. I would test my knowledge of Bible stories. We walked down, talking to Nick a little but eager to get on with the museum. We walked down a large hallway, where there were some folk art and American stuff, people loading hay and slaves in the field, also some little sculptures. This wasn't really Biblical stuff, but there were some lambs and church scenes however. We walked to the left, into the McCreless Collection and the European Gallery, a fairly big sized room, filled with abstract unrealistic paintings and a few sculptures. Most of the stuff was either in Latin or words I didn't understand, and this would be the hardest part in the museum to identify with guessing what part in the Bible they were. Okay though.

A lot of the stuff was about Mary, and there were a few glass display cases with crosses and candle holders, all gold and elaborate. I tried to do the guessing game thing, and Rebecca put her hand over the captions, but most of the time I didn't get it and was close but the artist had another name for it. I did get one right, however, and it was a kingly looking guy with a guard holding a baby and a knife, and too scared women. I said, "Nobody tell me! It's Solomon deciding the fate of that baby, and the two women were arguing about which one had the true baby and who it belonged to!" It was a good painting, of vibrant colors and good themes. Dad called us to come and exit this area. Staying in the American Artists Colonnade only a short while, we knew that the big part that Nick had talked about was coming near. Drum role, please. We all went together, wanting to make this anxious moment last. It was just one of those moments. Was just one of those moments. Just one of those moments. One of those moments. Of those moments. Those moments. Moments. But anyway, enough of that. We walked in. The room was long, as the other one was, and fairly large, with little sculptures at all. I tried to not notice the big thing behind me, working my way along the left wall.

They were more realistic paintings, unlike the abstract and unrealistic paintings of the old World, and the European ones. I like art a little bit, and it's cool to look at them, but religious art is very interesting because they put all their passion in their religion, because it is their life and their reason of being there. But I liked these, they were really cool. One was of a kid in blue jeans, really real looking, was being held up through his armpits, on the highway, by Jesus. It was really cool. There were some others like Moses in the Bullrushes and a few others, like Jesus shining in the light and him being the all so glorious God. It was like going to Church, in a way, and it made me feel good that this was the artists' ways of glorifying the Almighty, and enlightening him. One good oil painting was of the Messiah on a horse conquering a dragon in a cave, and it looked really powerful. Okay, so now I was ready to look back at that big painting. Turning, I saw the bright paint masterpiece lighting in front of me. Jesus, in a white robe, had bright light shining all around him in glorious appearance. There were too roman guards that were on the ground fainted , and large strong bright angels holding the swords. I tried to identify the different Bible characters.

Okay, so the first guy in a green robe with a white beard, medium size leaning toward the big side of that, was pretty obvious. He was holding up two grey stone tablets. Moses. The next wasn't as easy. It was a young man holding something in his hands, kneeling on the ground with a blue kingly robe and a yellow cape. No crown. I thought for a while, and then thought some more. I looked closer to see what he was holding in his hands, and then saw it WAS a crown. King David or Solomon! Well, I thought about how prim and proper Solomon was and who was supposed to be younger and was more closer to God, and I then confirmed it had to be David. Alright, so far so good. Next figure: brown coat, leaning back in glorification of Jesus, with a short beard. Hmmmm....I thought about who he could be. While thinking I noticed all those figures were translucent, and that they were see-through. We were all in awe of this painting, and Mom looked to the caption and said that it said that the figure was Isaiah. "MOM!" I said in disappointment, wanting to find out on my own. Oh well, it was ruined now. I took hold of the figure after that, who was Arabian or African-American, with a staff, holding his hands up in praise. I didn't know. Mom told me it was Abraham. OH! NOW THAT MAKES SENSE!

Okay, so now I looked at the right side of the huge painting in front of me. I couldn't get the two men, one in sheepskin with a brown beard and the one in red robe with a grey beard, but I supposed they must be Noah and somebody else, and I read from an app in my phone, the message in Hebrews that the painting is supposed to replicate in art, that one of the people was Elijah. The next one was a girl, in pink and very pretty with brown hair. Queen Ester! Now all that remained was two more guys. One had a staff and I deduced it might be John the Baptist, as he was mentioned in the Hebrews text and it looked like him. He was in a brown robe, and had only a small beard. The next guy was kneeling, in blue and yellow with a small beard around him. The only guy left was Daniel, so I picked him and looked at the caption. Out of all 9 of the figures I guessed 7 correct, which isn't too bad I suppose. But that was one of the best paintings I've EVER seen, really true. If you go to Dallas I wish for you to see this wonderful thing, and even if you don't please look it up online or something... it'll really be worth it. You might find it in Google under "The Resurrection Painting" or something of the sort. Anyway, please look at it someday.

We went out of this area back the way we came, actually, and went back to Nick in the reception area, and then into the gift shop. Rebecca found some bookmarks of the Resurrection and we were glad she had, for no pictures were allowed or you to take on it. I looked at a sketch of Dante's three scary books about the after life from the Catholic standpoint, and some of that stuff was really freaky and weird, I must say. Mom talked to Nick about what he was going to become(a minister) and his experience with the Lutheran Church. He didn't have a good experience with one denomination and wasn't learning anything about them, so a guy who actually worked at a computer shop he met there actually taught him more than anybody else. It was interesting. Dad had drifted off by this time. The gift shop was a pretty big room, full of trinkets and everything like that. A few offices in the back. Mom told us to go, for we had a lot of the museum to still delve deeper into. Waving goodbye to Nick for the moment, we went down the area which was dedicated to the King James Bibles. Dad was there. But first, we were going to go into a place, large actually, square or rectangle too, called the Judaical Galleries. Boy would this be interesting, the Jewish part of the museum.

Mostly there were weird paintings, like the revenge of the Messiah and stuff of the sort. A lot of them were abstract also, with a lot of flowing colors. No depth, really. A lot of stuff that doesn't even make sense, you know, like you have to read the caption and then look at the painting, caption, painting, painting, caption, until you find out what the thing means. There were a lot of Hanukkah scenes also, and many flat lambs in the back. We left after a while, back in the South Colonnade where the King James stuff was. I hadn't really used the audio tape mostly in the museum so far, just because I had just read the captions and it wasn't too interesting, some of the time they just told you what you saw. But not this time. I looked at the bulky huge brown parchment papers in the King James Bible. Rev Dr. GUYWITHLETTERSTARTINGWITHR, and another guy who was younger talked about it on the audio tape, and it was very interesting that they made different editions, in easier print, in more bold, later after the other one and how they wanted people to be able to have a Bible. The Catholic priests and the pope didn't, however. I'm not making an opinion about it; I will be talking about it forever. But anyway...

Over the years after 1611 they made smaller editions, and I listened to Rev. Dr (can you really be both a Rev and a Dr.?) R. talk about how one Bible said "Thou Shall Commit Adultery" and that people found out a few years later, making the person who made it recall all the Bibles and then he became into financial debt. It was actually the trick of some competitors who wanted him to recall them and help their business; you would think that people would at least not allow dirty business acts to be in the Bible making business. The poor man got in debtor's jail and died there. They didn't want that to happen, though, it got away. It was cool to look through the glass cases and see the Bibles through a mirror, and look how old the spines were and of what material. Actually really interesting, reading and doing audio and seeing the headings in the museum. That was actually my favorite part, besides the Resurrection and what I was about to see next (foreshadowing!). I ended this and peaked in a small empty library, with some shelves and old, old books that Moses read or something (not that old). This was the small Religious Architecture Library, and I looked at books, amazed, of some of the makings of Notre Dame and other things. I got out, though.

Mom and Rebecca had already gone into the Contemporary Gallery, right by, squeezed into together with the Jewish part. I went to the restroom which was facing the South Colonnade, after looking through glass into a large Wedding and Events ballroom, with small tables showing the diagrams and such for the part they were going to add, a botanical garden. Then I went into the West Colonnade where I didn't look for long, coming into a marble floor high ceiling Sculpture Atrium, with a lot of different colored sculptures, gold, silver, stone, rock, anything you could think of. Dad was seated in the middle on a bench, and Rebecca and Mom's voices could be heard in the Reception talking to Nick. Then, I saw it, as I turned right. I saw it, and will never forget it.

It was the "History in Art" painting that Nick had spoken of. HIA (the thing I'll be calling "History in Art from now on) was huge, as I had said, it could've of been a baby whale if it looked like one. There were all sorts of colors and faces on them, and as I got closer to the painting which was high and took of the whole room in height, I recognized a few at the bottom, like Adolf Hitler and Pablo Picasso. There was the Tog Mi Hall, and Queen Elizabeth the second there too. For minutes and minutes I stared, identifying people and then if I couldn't going to the left, seeing the face on the miniature version by it and then seeing the number, and confirming the number on the list of like 300 they had. Hitler was on their four times, two as a person and two as a cartoon. In the right corner was a lot of aviation people, and The Wright Bro's all the way to Neil Armstrong. The left top corner had the Earth from space, and Sally Ride, along with many other space stuff. In the center of this was Jesus Christ, which made sense because Jesus is the center of the Universe and stuff. The Nativity was the center top. A guy talking to Dad with grey hair, named Rick. He told me that it was painting by a Russian guy and that it's supposed to get older and older as you go in, but mostly it has no pattern. HIA was the largest and one of the coolest things in the museum. No doubt about it.

(If you want to see the painting and click on the heads and see info about them, go to www.historyinart.net. Rick wrote it on the back of my map. He's the one that told me.)

I went to Mom and showed her and looked a little more at this great masterpiece, and saw an angel sculpture with a sword, and listened to the audio tape which talked about the Artist dying and seeing this image and then coming back to life, with comments from his friends and family and even himself. Rebecca showed me behind the atrium a section, a little room, which had no white people on the paintings at all, but these were made by an African American and there is multiple scenes, making food, sleeping, playing in the yard, and an African-American Mono Lisa, a black baby Moses, and an African-American Jesus. Interesting, I suppose. Never thought about it like that before. But anyway, we went back out, got some stuff in the gift shop, and said goodbye to the cool guy Nick, as we had seen all of the fun museum. I had fun there, and it was really cool to see the Resurrection, HIA, and the Bibles. Very cool place. I may not like art much, but Biblical Art is cool because you already know all the stories and get to see different religious art. Since then I have gone to HIA's site on the Web a lot, and liked it. Well, we got in the car, and drove around, very hungry for lunch even though it was about 3 0r 4 and the sun was dimming. We found a cool little place called Souper Salad (play on words). There was a line of food and salad, and we got trays, paying before hand.

We got a lot of everything and potatoes, sitting down and talking. Dad told me that he was a junior Rotarian in high school, and that he did a really cool project. I told him I wanted to write a biography about him someday, first hand, as we ate the decent food. Pretty fresh, it was. After eating we went back into the jeep, hanging out at the RV park and walking the dogs. It was a relaxing evening. The next day, we would... Well, not to spoil anything... Let's just say it would be interesting and cowboy-like. Assassinations, theories, and 6 floors would be the parts of the day. Goodbye for now.

Oh don't touch that! It is a work of art! You mean my spit? Yes, it looks like Jim Carrey. How much money do you want for it? 5,000?

Wish we had photos of the art....

Andrew.

Drive to Dallas, Texas and What Came Afterward

This blog post details the events that took place on the Fourth of February, a Saturday:

We got ready to drive to Dallas on the Saturday. We had picked the day because Lauren would be off from school, and we could drive over and then see her on Sunday or Saturday. We washed our hair as I saw kids riding their bikes. I didn't have a bike myself, but I would try to play with them. I went to the restroom across the street in the pavilion as Dad was in the other one, and Rebecca then followed me. We looked for them. Later in the day I would want to go to the book exchange, the big one they have, and put in the Mockingjay book for another one. But for now we went along and walked to the people, going in front of the R.V. park, across a field of tall grass, and then going down, following the kids, with their bikes walking. They were at a huge pit of concrete, and we introduced ourselves to the ten year olds on bikes. They didn't want to play tag, just talk and play on the bikes. I pretended to be a real weirdo to get a laugh but Rebecca didn't want me to do it, taking me over and then pinching me if I did it again, apologizing. We ended up leaving, and those guys were pretty mean, saying bad words. They obviously weren't little kids anyway. Later Rebecca told to Mom how bad I had been, but later we made up and went to the Book Exchange with the Mockingjay book. I had gone alone one time, and now was coming for the final pick. Up the walkway and in the door, with the book under my arm, I went over to the Book Exchange.

Behind me to my right was the kids part and I spotted out a few books that I knew, like Harry Potter and Alex Rider's Point Blanc. It was cool, and I saw one about a church event, only a small chapter book, which was interesting. Rebecca kept taking out books, like a Left Behind DVD. I saw a crumbling old Behind the Arches about McDonald's thing, and I was torn between that book and the DVD's and the kid book and the First Son book about George W. Bush. Rebecca kept annoyingly taking out the books, as I discarded the chapter book, saying it looked girly and putting away the Left Behind because you can get that at any Christian Bookstore. That left Behind the Arches and the First Son. Which one would I choose? Well, Dad said I could get both, because one was old and crumbling away and the other wasn't. Plus, I was offering a new kids book, hardback with the dust jacket still on. So, Dad said it was fine and fair if I got both. I didn't feel good about not being honest, but oh well, I will pay them back later when I am rich and famous. We quietly drifted out, and Rebecca looked at one room while I turned my back on the lady, feeling terrible about what I was doing. But I got out just the same, mean old boy I am.

We put in the slides and the electric cord and all the other things, without much event, just the usual yelling and scolding for not being too quick, and the jogging, grabbing, more yelling, and attaching things, and more running on the rich morning dew, the wet groundwater coming on my tennis shoes as I swing around the front to the door, and go up the steps slowly, grabbing the key's to get to close the electric small door that it rolls up in. We drove out of Austin, now into the Northeast part of the state of Texas. I did a lot of Math in that ride, a little bit of blogging, but mostly it was Rebecca and I talking to Lauren R. on text, and Mom calling the Mom. Lauren said that her mom had said yes, and gave Rebecca her Mom's home phone and Mom called her, up in the front seat. Lauren told us stuff to do, but that she was more in the Fort Worth area and didn't do Dallas as much, but that there was a lot of cowboy stuff in Fort Worth, that the skyscrapers of Dallas had always fascinated her for some reason, and she told us of one that you go up an elevator and where you could turn around in circles and see the whole skyline. She said there was a chicken place that had really good food, and that there was a Six Flags. A lot of fun stuff.

Mom talked with the other Mom and they said they wouldn't be available on the next day, or the day after that, so this would really be the only day, and they asked if we could be able to go to a Tex Mex Restaurant, El Fenix. SO WE WERE GOING TO SEE LAUREN AGAIN! I was glad, for I had enjoyed talking to her and she was a very nice girl. We came into a certain R.V. Park called Cowtown, which was alright, gravel, and with two nice ladies in the office, with a counter to our front and an office and some shelves of books behind them. Both were old, both had short hair, and both were named Mary, with the same initial on their last name! Imagine that! You don't see that every day. We thanked them and got in the R.V. after detaching the jeep. We drove on the gravel, going along, going down away from the road and turning left. There was some four or five feet of grass, fenced in. These were dog runs, and further on were some sites and people. There was a brick building, where bathrooms and laundry places dwelt. Parking, we took out the slides and set up, having a little picnic table. Rebecca and I walked the dogs in the crisp air, the wind blowing and the grey sky overlooking us. Would this be a good evening?

I wanted to look good for the upcoming time we were to have. I got on nice jeans and new tennis shoes, plus a blue Navy Pier shirt I got in Chicago.(see blog post "Chicago!!!!The Windy City!") I have worn this shirt a lot, and it usually looks good but casual at the same time, or that's at least what Mom says. Mom got a nice sweater, with Dad a suit and tie. We got in the jeep, slowly and making our hair not move, and we texted Lauren about our constant movements. She stated they were taking a little long in traffic. Uh-oh. We came to a nice restaurant, with the sign and the sandstone outerwalls, that you usually see at a Mexican Restaurant. We parked and then walked inside a booming lobby, with a small podium to our left and more to the left in the hallway, with it's back to the entrance and to the left, was a counter selling treats, and candy, with a register for people who were paying for the meal. There were many people there, all in a line. We put our name down, the lady at the podium being gone for a long while and then returning. We were one of the first before it became a lot more crowded, thankfully, and I went to the restroom quickly, wanting to be the first one to see Lauren and her family and say hello to them. Rebecca and I both watched the threshold, between the doors with interest. We waited. And waited.

People talked, kids laughed, and a general hubbub increased.We looked around people who were false alarms, and were standing. Then, a family, and a tall girl, came through. It was them! Although on the inside bursting with excitement on the inside, I waved shyly and said yellow, awkwardly smiling. They all came in, the small boy kid, tan with black hair, and the brown haired Mom and the black haired tan Dad with glasses and a thick head. Lauren was tall, as I have already mentioned, and she has black hair, and pretty tan with olive skin, and big eyes, and she was wearing a jacket and books. Leather jacket, I think so, anyway. They were in pretty casual wear. I said it was really cool to be seeing them again, and that I never thought on the boat in Maine that I would see any of them again. (See blog post called "Whale Watching") Mom and Dad, although they hadn't really known the acquaintances, hugged and said hello to the new found friends. Mom said that we were waiting for a seat, as the lady signaled to us to come. Rebecca told some things to Lauren as we went through a room, with the people on either side, and a lot of old Mexican Paintings. We found ourselves at the corner of one place at the very back, by the entrance to the kitchen and everything, with the walkway down the way right there too. We sat down, with the Bourne family on one side and the Rangeo family on the other.

I looked at the menu, across from Lauren. I wanted to get something that wasn't messy, as I didn't know these people and they might be extra proper. I decided on an enchilada, although they said that something else was really good, the tacos. I kind of liked Lauren, because she was pretty, although only a little. Mary Beth, of all the weirdest things she's done, wanted to talk to Lauren in the meal, or have me give the phone to Lauren. Nonsense. I mean, it would be so weird and we were going to have good conversations during the meal, no texting. After the meal was done she wanted me to give her Lauren's number, but I wouldn't do that, because I knew how weird it felt when people got my number from other people. I wouldn't do such an odd thing. But back to the meal. I was going to get the Enchilada. Throughout the meal we spread stories, although Rebecca and I both interrupted each other a lot, wanting to be the one to get to the punch line and such. Rebecca pinched me. Lauren talked about some of her cooking stuff though, and I discussed superheroes and soccer balls with her brother, who's name is Trevor. Dad talked to the dad, and he was a worker of computers. The mom's talked about the different schooling of Texas and Georgia some. Everybody enjoyed it.

Rebecca told Lauren about Mrs. Anthony the witch who pretended to be a substitute teacher, and how creepy she was as I told them later about how a kid pulled the fire alarm and tee peed a bathroom in the same day, how I was swept up in the cafeteria when I was telling the janitor about the tee peeing which I saw and then how the fire alarm went and I was taken to the Vice Principal's office as a person of interest, who might of seen something, they thought. It was a fun day. Lauren said she was in 7th grade at a public school with uniforms, and said she was popular but not the mean kind. She supplemented a few stories that generated laughs as I ate more of the cheese dip chips that was very good. I was a little tired of Mexican Restaurants as we had been to so many in so few days, but we had not been to a Tex Mex and because this was Texas, we should use all our opportunities to get Mexican. My enchilada was good when it came at, and not too messy but pretty much so, as I got food on my new jeans. Lauren was nice as she was on the boat, and even the distance it is since I have seen her last, I still can't believe that fate has intertwined us once more. The odds of seeing them again our doubtful, but, the Savior being a carpenter was doubtful too, but... it's true.

After the meal we talked a lot more, now full in our stomachs. I went to the restroom,and Rebecca went too. I went before she did, conducting a plan for us to have a lookout and as soon as she came down the walkway we would stare at her. She came down, and we widened our eyes like she was an alien or something of the sort. She looked a little alarmed, and walked down as she laughed, as she did in the meal, a lot of awkward laughing. She needs to apologize for how much she laughs. She sat down, as Trevor still stared, but Lauren broke into a smile and chuckle, as Trevor and I leaned in, and Rebecca pinched me, saying to stop it and that she knew we were kidding. Then I broke, and Trevor after that. We all told her our plan, and she laughed along with us. The night was only young. After a while though we all got up, and then after that stood at the counter, as we made goodbyes. It was a good night, and cool to see them after all that time, and I was really stunned that I had seen them again after Maine. It is truly a small world, but I doubt we would have seen them if we didn't text and keep in touch. Lauren was fun and nice and Trevor wasn't too bad either, and there parents were good people also. I enjoyed that meal... at El Fenix with the Rangeo's.

I waved off Lauren, as hugging would be weird. Rebecca hugged her though, the men shook hands, and the ladies also hugged. We went out in the rain together, as they got in the car parked right by ours. We got in, and we said goodbye, that it was great to see them for one last time. I don't think I will see them again, but who knows; maybe in our travels the road will come to another intersection of the Bourne's and the Rangeo's. Maybe.

I told Lauren I liked her, but alas, sheer rejection, nicely but still cold. Oh well. Maybe I'll see some pretty girls in California. Oh well.

Goodbye for now, faithful readers.

Mrs. Anthony the witch! GRRR!,

Andrew.

Andrew, Rebecca, Trevor, and Lauren

The ill-fated family, LBJ Presidential Library and Museum, Barber Shop

Friday, the Third of February, 2012: (the day I am speaking of, not the actual day I'm writing this)

Mom and I were walking the dogs down an aisle of only trailers, with the dogs in front of us, walking along. We talked about some things as we then turned around, seeing the gated small playground by the road and a little building, with some kids on it. They then went on a bus that stopped, and went away. So Rex must be among them, I thought. He said it was across the street. We went back, and later at the R.V. sat down in the lawn chairs outside, and talked as a short haired old lady passed by. We said hi to her, and got in a conversation, as she sat down on the bench with her bag, that she was going to use when she was going to the restroom. She said that she was a security guard at a construction site, and that she would usually bring the R.V. and make turns around, her husband sleeping some and then herself sleeping, off and on. She was usually guarding against graffiti people and kids, and related to us one time how she came to kids and told them that she had the 91 on the phone, only one digit remained. They didn't bother her again. But she also related to us, through breaks in the dog-walkers coming around and the dogs barking furiously at them, pulling on us. I walked Rocky, who needed to pee, a little bit.

Then I saw Rex, him walking with a back-pack on the street away from me. I said hi, and he stated that he would be back at noon. I said goodbye to him, wondering if we would make it back at noon. But, I listened to the lady again. She was opinionated and had a raspy voice, but was pretty nice, just kind of gruff. She then went to tell us about the old great grandmother, who died a while ago. One of her sons got cancer, another a motorcycle accident, and one of them married a "JAP. (I thought she meant Japanese person.) Do you know what that is? Jewish American Princess. I hate her guts. She will always show us all the jewelry he gets her. Personally I don't think he's happy." It was interesting to learn about her family and all that happened to them, and their names also. Pretty bad things happened to them, and they weren't very together anymore. Kind of sad. I'm glad that my family isn't like that. They were a really ill-fated family, I must say. Well, we said goodbye to the lady after a while, and she went away to go take a shower, and for a few minutes we stayed outside, before taking the dogs in. Dad and I talked about how we were going to go to Dallas to see the JFK Assassination site, and I saw a movie on BrainPop about Theodore Roosevelt, and it mentioned that McKinley was his predecessor, how was assassinated. Pay attention to this, it will come back later in the blog.

So we were going to Dallas! It was decided, that we would go to Cowtown (an R.V. park) the next day. I was excited to see Lauren, and texted her telling to tell her Mom if it would be okay to meet. She replied that her Mom was in a bad mood and might say no so she would ask later. We just hoped she would ask soon enough. But anyhow, we got ready to go and then came into the car. Before coming inside Mom gave me some multiplication flash cards, and told me to do them with Rebecca. Back in the car, I brought my Tramp book, which is what I'll be calling it from now now on. We drove out of the R.V. park, and down into Austin. I was trying to be nice to Rebecca, even though she made me annoyed and answered them slowly. We came up a hill into a neighborhood, and we saw some cool flat houses with cutting edge architecture, and it was really cool and retro. Kind of futuristic also. They were like Brad Pitt's Make-it-right homes, but not shotgun homes, more regular and all slick. Rebecca stopped doing multiplication facts when we came in here, looking at the different colored homes and everything. We went back down the big hill, and Rebecca answered the questions and problems slowly and in a funny way. I was annoyed.

But then we came into Austin, and only a little ways away from our R.V. park, on the University of Texas. We came upon the Longhorn's stadium, and looked around before coming on the LBJ Presidential Museum, which is actually on the property. Later we would look at more of the homes and areas of the University, and it would be really cool. But for now, we would pull into the parking lot and get out. There were square buildings, grey brick, and they were held up by rectangle columns. It was a kind of... uh... dull and boring two buildings. I hoped that this wouldn't be a foreshadowing of what the inside was like. Locking the car, we walked, looking at the grey sky above us and the uncertainty of rain possibly. We walked up between the two towering block buildings, and we then I saw on my right a T.V. and lounge chairs, inside of the building on my right. We walked on, and to the right was yet another building like the other ones, and this was the Presidential Library and Museum. The other rooms were meetings for the council and executives, and the Plaza and waiting area. It had little to nothing to do with the museum. Well, we saw the security guards outside and also behind them the skyline of Austin, all the buildings. It was really pretty. So far, my favorite city was San Antonio, but later in the blog that might change.

We walked in, and the doors opened by the security guards. In here was a large counter, some T.V.'s, and a lot of brochures. Nice place. On the left was a door and there was a large opening on the right, with cases and dials and all of the other things you would see in a professional museum. We walked up there, and an old blonde haired lady told us many things to do, old heart. She talked about the top floor and the mock oval office, plus a special exhibit of about the history and legacy of Security guards, and some other things. She said a movie was about to begin, and that they were the ones that started it up. We thanked them as half of us went to the restroom, the girl half. Dad and I went up a step and opened a door by the entrance of the museum, and we found ourselves in a cool red theater, with stairs downward. Nice seats. I looked at the map and brochure, with the glossy paper. It stated that this was the only Presidential Library that didn't ask for pay from people. Only generous donations. That's pretty nice. Well, we said it talked about the place that he was born, on a ranch. He was a country boy. We talked a little before Rebecca came in, and a small thin old African American lady came up, and leaned against the railing on the ramp and stairs that went down to more seats. She cleared her throat.

In a soft and kind of high voice, she told us that this was the only presidential library that people didn't pay in, and something about Lady Bird wanting to be a journalist. She also mentioned that she did a garden outside sometimes and was very active in the community. She was nice enough, the old lady, but her talking had no sense of direction, it seemed she just said what was on her mind, mentioning the LBJ ranch at Johnson City, Texas, and where he was born on a farm near Stonewall, Texas. After a while the old lady said she would go start the movie, and waddled away, slowly but surely. She went into the back and then the lights dimmed and the movie's lights on the screen flashed up, and the movie watcher was brought into the all-too familiar dream that is called a movie. It was short but pretty good, going over LBJ's whole life from his humble beginnings in Stonewall, Texas and him going to High School, and becoming a teacher to mostly Mexican children, and how that's how he got his legacy for wanting children to have education. It showed articles and went over his life in only a few minutes, which was good to have a beginning before going into the museum. He went into D.C. as he became a secretary, went into the House of Representatives and then lost the Senate, before then getting elected into the Senate. It was very interesting.

After the movie we got out of the theater. It was pretty good. Outside now, we started in the museum. It was a timeline, with artifacts below all of it, and the live of LBJ and the time period were both on there. I read EVERYTHING. It went through time periods, starting with WWI and talking about his family and pictures on the wall of his farmland origins. On the right Mom called me his grade sheet, a small brochure size thing talking about his grammar. He got a few C's and B's. Can you believe that? A president of the United States got those average and pretty bad grades? Man, that is beyond me. But, even though this museum was about LBJ, there was also talking about Lady Bird. Her real name was Claudia, to a good family, but they had a nurse that mentioned she was as, "pretty as a lady bird." The rest is history. She, on the other hand, had wonderful grades and was a vocational speaker, very good with her words. It seemed that she would make a great journalist. Well, on the timeline it said that that he graduated from Johnson City High School, and that was in 1924. As I moved along, I came into the next timeline, the Roarin' 20's. It talked about that Charleston Dance, and in a large glass case to the right was a 20's fashion lady, doing the all-so popular dance. Well, not too popular nowadays.

Back to Johnson's life. You know that city's name that I mentioned earlier, Johnson City? Well, it's name after him, if you can believe it! But he moved away from that, to teach in a small grade school in Cotulla, Texas, to mainly Mexican kids in a very poor place, the kids not even having money for such a thing as soap and shoes. Johnson supplied it to them, from his mother back in Johnson City. He did that just to wet his feet in the real world, afterwards getting a Bachelor Degree of Science in Southwest Texas State Teacher's College. He met Lady Bird who was a graduate from University of Texas, and they had a 11 week courtship as Johnson went to become secretary to Congressman Kleberg. Some person observed that Lyndon was very enthusiastic and as full of juice and energy as a 5 year old girl or that Reed dude who used to be on American Idol. (The friend didn't say that, I did.) He also remarked that although the Depression was in full swing and it was so bad, Lyndon was having very good Expressions about the Depressions. That guy, whoever that guy was (I forgot) is very witty. I might have to call him for jokes in the blog. Well, he's probably dead by now... but anyway.... He married Lady Bird in 1934 and she joined him in Washington.

At this point Dad needed to go to the restroom, coming back to me from his stay up farther in the museum. I liked the way it was designed. Rebecca needed to go too, and she told me to take her down, but Dad volunteered in my place, saying it was good that I was reading all the things in the museum. At the beginning of each section was a column of words about that decade of time, and an overview before you read more. I was reading about Babe Ruth, and then came upon the 40's. Ah, the 40's. The war starting up, and then the end of that decade. I watched a movie and photographs of Johnson bursting with excitement as he went into Washington D.C., and getting friendly with President Roosevelt who made him Texas Director of National Youth Administration, and right before how he got into the U.S. House of Representatives, in the 10th District, whatever that means. He wanted to get in the Senate, and about that race Lady Bird said that it was a lot of fun going to rallies and meeting people and doing all that, even though they lost. Then U.S. entered the war. Johnson did a lot of stuff, going to different battles and flying a patrol bomber that was hit by a Japanese. I saw the silver star for gallantry he received, and I looked in the glass case and saw a Navy uniform, and an army one and a pilot one. It was cool that this wasn't just about LBJ, but about the history of the U.S. and the world also, his life tying into some of it.

FDR was fast friends with LBJ. Hey, a question, why do we feel the need to use their initials when talking about them? Is it because their names are too long? Nobody goes GWB for George W. Bush or RWR for Ronald Reagan. I guess they just did it for the older presidents, maybe. But what about Abraham Lincoln for... oh wait he doesn't have a middle name. And why doesn't he have a middle name? But anyway, back to the blog.

He was in the Special Duty officer, naval intelligence, and then in the U.S. Navy Reserve. They showed us his cool hat he wore. He had left earlier in 1941 the House, to get away from politics a while. In 1948 he went into the Senate for Texas on Nov. 2nd, and then also was elected again in 1954 and in 1960. I passed out of this area of moving flat blocks where the info was, now into a large hall, and there was a large concrete or marble staircase going up to the next floor. To my left I saw Mom on a bench, watching a little movie on the television, and there was a black limo underneath the wide stairs. I watched a little, and she said hello, telling me to look at the black part that was "The Day the Earth never forgot" or something of the sort. I mentioned I wanted to do the timeline in order, and not do that yet. She was looking at a video about Johnson's motorcade car (that limo was the one) that followed JFK the day he died. I looked at the video a little bit longer, but drifted off into a section about Johnson's outer family and all the pictures, accidentally starting at the opposite end your supposed to start in. I looked at recent pictures of the Johnson's, and looked at the caption. Nice family. Since they only had two girls, Lady Bird and Johnson, so their are no namesakes. Well, I have a teacher named Mrs. Johnson! Maybe he had a long-lost daughter!

Andrew, what a numb butt you are! A lot of people have the name Johnson! Do you know how common it is? But I walked on, staying to the right wall. He was leader in the Democratic party in the Senate, and about that same year Spupnik was launched, in 1957. Apart from the big blocks and the maze squiggly line formation that the museum had prior taken, I now had the timeline at the top, and only a little bit of things, only a small line really, on the right wall, with artifacts downward. It was pretty cool though. On the cold war and the Russians it spoke about exclusively. He also led a campaign, to strength the space race, to establish the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. Earlier I had been showing cool things to everybody, and showed a few things to Mom also. It seemed that he didn't seek the presidency, he was nominated for vice presidency by Speaker Sam Rayburn at the Democratic Convention. He was defeated by John F. Kennedy, a democrat from MA. But, in a dramatic turn of events, JFK, thinking that LBJ was smarter and older than the younger new president, unanimously voted as nomination for Vice President. The people of Texas made him Senator for a third term, but he soundly resigned three minutes after being elected. You can't do two jobs at one time.

What was funny was that LBJ was fast friends with JFK, just like he was fast friends with FDR. Lady Bird and Jackie got along well too. Well, this right little spot focused on the Bay of Pigs Invasion, and in a cubicle was a T.V. interview where JFK talked about all the missiles there, and addressed the nation. I leaned up against the carpet black wall. Well, finally, after that, I was to that part that Mom had said I should go to. Right in front of it was a picture that I can only describe as horrifying. It was of a Buddhist Priest in China protesting the Vietnam War. How was it horrifying. For one, he was bald, and his hands were raised up at the sky, and the flames, orange, red, and yellow, were engulfing him and burning him, and his fiery eyes were looking straight at you. Man, it made me so scared that I couldn't see straight. Those eyes, the face and all the charred black and brown unnatural skin color, it was enough to make a brain surgeon puke. Enough to make a maker of wax monsters be afraid to sleep the following night. But anyway, away from that, I signaled to Mom that I was going into this dark area, the "Day the World would not forget." And I would never forget that exhibit. Never in my lifetime. Then I saw it.

The movie T.V. had a women's voice played over tapes and video and pictures of JFK waving, and it was Lady Bird's voice, her saying that it was such a beautiful day that day, and that she heard a pop, and then saw JFK fall down, and talked about all the people she was waving too, and that Agent Youngblood made them get down after the shot. I went on, seeing a small timeline and numbers and dates, and a large picture of LBJ being signed in as 36th President of the United States, on Air Force One, putting his hand on a small Bible and being the first president sworn in by a woman, Sarah T. Hughes, and how Jackie was right by him, in a blood splattering jacket. Then, I read further around the corner to the right, now at the end of this small exhibit, of Jackie Kennedy writing a heartfelt letter, four pages long and written on a hotel sheet with the logo on there, and saying that she kind of wished that LBJ was never president, because of the loss of her husband, and that she loved them and would never forget them, recalling good times. She said that she loved Lynda Bird the most, because she had known her the longest, and that they had sat together at a Democratic Convention before the Presidency, and that she never knew that she would be in such circumstances with her as they did happen, at that moment. It was very bittersweet, the letter was. Sad, but nice at the same time. Jackie was a good writer also. That was a really touching exhibit.

The rest of the first floor was about the trials and tribulations of LBJ's presidency, how he addressed the nation saying he wouldn't be perfect, and that he would try to push for rights of all kinds. Mom told me that Dad and Rebecca were already on the second floor, and to push it up a bit, as I went through a section about civil rights, a sculpting of hands that were all tied together, and sit ins. Turning right into a little corner with no exit, I came upon a really cool sculpting of all these different bills that LBJ pushed for and made, and that he wanted every person to have education, and that thinking was influenced by all the Mexican kids while he was a teacher. They were all in a line in front of me, and were up over a paragraph about each of them. Among the laws he made to make the country better were:

-Civil Rights (the sculpting was of a white hand and black hand interjoining.)

-Education (in this case it was a kid with a pencil and book, all of this was very colorful)

-The Environment (a small little sculpt of the world)

-Head Start (it's about helping poor underprivileged able to have a education, and it was poor kids smiling.)

-Job Corps (grain, and shovels and farming tools)

-Medicare (a stick with snakes on it,)

There were two others, National Endowments for the Arts and Humanities, which was instruments and a palette, and War on Poverty too. But can you believe that LBJ did Medicare? Some of the bills were influenced by JFK's laws, but most were LBJ's. Yeah, he did all that great bills, enriching people's lives. I know that much of his presidency is shadowed by The Vietnam War, and a lot of people say he wasn't a good president because of that. Don't deny it! You all know who you are. But anyway, he did a lot of things before that, and I'm trying to think if any of you could've done better. Because half of you, some of you oldies, depend on that for your financial support, and it's his doing! Oh and I'm talking about Medicare. And YOU know who YOU are. But anyway, I'm done yelling at you. Don't be offended if you don't do that. I'm not accusing you of anything. This talk is for the people who did do it. And they know who they are. Now, let's get back to the blog.

I got out of the dead end, satisfied with this part. Backtracking myself I came into an alcove that came into the bigger region, and turned right where it talked about the Vietnam War and the Gulf of Tonkin, and how Johnson dealt with it. I didn't do this section long, as Dad and Rebecca came up behind us. I wanted to be able to do the museum with them, not just Mom, and to speculate and laugh and talk with them too, not just have them speed along. They said they were done with the second floor and the third floor was all that was left that they didn't do, that they would do it with me. I looked and took a final swag of the bottom part, as Rebecca and Dad sat down on the bench on the right side of the large staircase, and Mom and I went up, alone. Sigh. That part isn't of much interest of the blog down there, it was just a closed off dark exhibit, some talking about marines and pictures of people who got the Purple Heart, and funny cartoons and people who were criticising the President. Not too nice stuff either, I must say. Well, we walked up, seeing the so high ceiling and above us and forward glass high levels of beige shelves and books, all in a fat beige container, numbered. We didn't go in there, but all the documents were sealed tight. That's pretty cool.

In this so large, room, if you can call it that, I looked around at my square surroundings. Coming up from the stairs, to my left was a cubicle, with pictures and words, and an opening into the exhibit. This was what that lady was talking about, the special exhibit about The Secret Service. Then, there was a wall, with many pointillism paintings of LBJ, and Cubism. On the right were copies of the paintings I had seen at the Museum of American Art and Portrait Gallery, in Washington D.C. They were of the presidents, with captions and their dates and times. This room was huge and airy, I said. Turning around I saw on my left, another cubicle, shaded, saying "Talk to Lyndon. Then there was another wall, the left one, which had paintings of the first ladies, and another glass thing. I didn't know where to start. I guessed I would do the Secret Service thing. I walked over on the hard polished floor, looking at a few paintings as I drifted in. There was a four-sided column, that had all the info on it. It was very interesting, and before McKinley the secret service was authorized to find counterfeiters and stuff. I read a part that had a picture of somebody who did that, and he had a funny story with him. There were sections like the origins and all the times. Then, I saw it.

It talked about how McKinley died in 1901 and how after that the congress made the Secret Service protect the president. I read as through the decades they added it to the close family, and when Robert Kennedy died how they protected the presidential candidates. I went around to the other side, seeing the heroic people who protected Gerald Ford, and the two attempts by women. Then, there was a block of the cubicle all about the wonderful people who risked their life in protecting the president, all their names. Thank you, Secret Servicemen. We are truly indebted to your service. Well, done with seeing this, I brought up Rebecca and Dad, and showed them it, after all their stubbornness. I thought it was a big coincidence that I read about McKinley's assassination earlier in the day, and that now I was reading more about it. Remember me saying you should hang onto that name and remember it? Well, that is the reason. But that secret service deal was very interesting indeed. Mom was talking to some people at one far end, by a balcony door that looked over the whole scene of Austin, while I looked at some different things. I listened to a fake wax moving robot with plaid shirt and straw hat, the old LBJ, who was supposed to be a good story teller, and talked to some ladies along the wall of First Ladies, speculating about these women I had never seen before, most of them, some ugly, some not. The women I was talking to worked there, and were doing trivia to make themselves more known. When Mom was done talking to those people, she talked to those people a little bit.

A part by the balcony had all this things about articles of kings and queens, and that was cool to look at a little. I was only really interested about LBJ though, wanting to know about this guy. We finally finished on the airy second floor, which was pretty cool, but not much about his life, just special exhibits. We were ready to go to the third and final floor, going through a hallway and and pressing on the elevator door. There was another lady who joined us, tall and brown haired. Very sharp dress. Well, we made our way up, going down a hallway and a big area where there was a part of the museum all about Lady Bird, with a platform and podium, and more cases of different sorts. There was also the opening of a room in front of us, where you look at it, with painted walls and a gate not letting you go in. I looked at the Oval Office as it would be in LBJ's time, with paintings of Andrew Jackson (fellow democrat) and FDR (his idol). There was a short table in the middle of the room, with a phone that could come out of a small holder and other thing. The desk was pretty plain. I read a quote from Jackie that LBJ could take down the ship pictures that JFK had, and to make it his own. She is a nice lady. She didn't turn mad like another First Lady who's husband was assassinated, Mary Todd Lincoln. She thought her dead sons were talking to her.

Mom started talking to the lady and then the lady went down back into the elevator, in an act of speed and hurry. Mom told us while we were looking at the Lady Bird exhibit to be on our best behaviors, that the lady was going to get a packet student guide about LBJ Library and Museum, spiraled, Material for Students. We thought that was very nice of her. She wanted to get it because she heard about the trip. I looked around at LBJ's dresses and stuff, and her reports at school and the podium, where she talked about some things. Down in a corner was a part that said she wrote most of LBJ's speeches, and that marrying her was the smartest thing that LBJ ever did. It was funny. But the elevator dinged, and the lady came over, introducing herself as Marsha L. Sharp, and I shook her hand, saying I was delighted to meet her and being extra proper. She was an Education Specialist, and gave us each a spiraled red notebook, pretty big, saying

THE LYNDON BAINES JOHSON

LIBRARY AND MUSEUM

EDUCATION MATERIALS

FOR STUDENTS

with the logo at the bottom. We thanked her very much as she described the pamphlet, saying about it and also she talked that it was cool we were doing this, mentioning places where the other Presidential Museums are, with the contact info on a small page in the packet we had. After talking to her I went right and looked at Lady Bird's office, and it was pretty regular, with all the papers on the floor, for she stated that that was the best way to organize things. Mrs. Sharp described her job, that Lady Bird was a very smart person and that LBJ was a great man. Dad was pooped from the museum, he sat down on the bench, tired, as he looked at a timeline of LBJ's life and inventions in his lifetime. It was very interesting to them that Tupperware and the Atomic Bomb were created in the same year. And that in his life time sunglasses, computer mouses, hula hoops, Mr. Potato Head, T.V. dinner, cable T.V., black and white T.V., and Tylenol were all created during his lifetime. We were all so hungry, wanting to have lunch as we hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, had walked around with the speed of an Andrew (they say "the speed of an Andrew" because I take so long) and it was four so we needed to eat! 

We thanked Mrs. Sharp again and said goodbye, and went down in the elevator to the first floor, going to the restroom as we excited the building, Mom and Rebecca in front, in the rain, through the buildings, to the car! They pulled up the car as we got in, and I tried to put the packet inside of my jacket and not get it wet. I'm glad that we went to the Presidential Library, it was very interesting, very informational, and really cool because of all the artifacts, pictures, and all. If you want to learn about Lady Bird, go to the third floor. If you are more of a special exhibit and want to see a funny person, listen to the wax LBJ talk. It has something everything can enjoy, right on the hill overlooking Austin, with a lot of facts and a movie and everything. It's really cool. If you go to Austin, I recommend against everything else, to visit the LBJ Museum. If only one day is your stay, do that. Lyndon Baines Johnson was a great man, and even though he made mistakes in Vietnam, he did a lot of things, helping out education and the economy alike. If LBJ was never president, we wouldn't have medicare or the Job Corps or The Civil Rights Acts of the 1960's. Let's give a round of applause for old Lyndon, aye? Thanks for all you did, man!

LBJ said this of the museum, and I quote, "It is all here: the story of our time--with the bark off...There is no record of a mistake, nothing critical, ugly, or unpleasant that is not included in the files here...This Library will show the facts--not just the joys and triumphs, but the sorrow and failures too." Lyndon Baines Johnson, 1971.

He saw the Library of himself, and the museum, in 1971, two years before his death.

I am so glad we went though. Oh and by the way, all the information I have told you, with the dates, is from that packet that the good lady Mrs. Sharp gave you. Most of it is from the actual Library and Museum, so you can tell it's all genuine. I really owe it to the packet for all the info; thank you Mrs. Sharp. This is the bibliography.

So for the rest of the day we searched for a restaurant, in downtown. Literally, it was down the hill, so it was DOWNtown. We looked at all the college kids getting out of the University, and I pondered a little about what college I was going to and about the dangers of that while looking around at all the towering buildings. We went into a parking garage and then walked down to a cool place with chairs outside, a pitbull, actually tied up to a table. Inside was a Cafe like setting, and we ordered up there. I got a hamburger, and then we went outside on the tables again. The restaurant only had a few inside, and had a counter and then bar and then kitchen behind the counter, with a hallway going down. We passed with our water we got from the concession stand, and talked about the weird guy that had given us food. He had ear rings on that made his ear have a large gaping whole, and there were metal things that made a circle of air. So gross. I asked Mom and Dad as we came outside and passed by some people with the pit bull, awkwardly trying to act casual about the scary beast. We then passed, and sat down at another table, looking out at the passing traffic and the building of apartments that had stuff, and we talked about architecture. Oh and what did I ask Mom and Dad? Sorry I didn't tell you I got carried away. I asked them if there was air or just an earring. Air. Even grosser.

They came out with the food, in this city cafe, and we ate the pretty good food while shooing away pigeons. Rebecca and I had fought over a seat earlier and so now part of the meal was sat in awkward silence. Mom looked at me at one point and put my bangs to one side, saying that I was in need of a new haircut. We talked to a man sitting at another table with a laptop, and we asked if there was a haircut place around. The young African American man answered, "Oh, I don't live here. I just have been here for a few months, waiting for the people to send me to another place, to accept it." We asked him who he worked for. He answered Home Depot, a company of hardware. We knew them, of course, because they started in Atlanta and Dad and I both read a book about it. We told this to the man. He said he hadn't read the book, and that he was from Atlanta. For a while we talked about stuff to do as he mentioned where he worked, and we knew right where it was! Then after talking we walked downward into more of Austin, Texas. We walked a while down, seeing some pretty weird people, all of whom were spiked hairdos and mohawks, or tattoos. Dad said their parents never loved them and that's why they were like that.

There was a dude on a bench, a nice blonde haired dude with up hair and a clean face, very young and handsome, with jeans on and a short V blue tee. We asked him if he knew where a good barbershop for boys were, for a little trim and nothing too crazy. He informed us of a place up on the hill, a real traditional barbershop with spinny leather chairs, and all the old materials, plus white suits with black ties. Really old. We decided to go back to the car, for it was far away. Thanking the guy we then saw a Children's Museum, and Rebecca's pleadings of going in were heard on by deaf ears. It was closed and we didn't have time. We got back in the car and drove up to UPtown, which is really upward as much as DOWNtown was downward. We found up there cute little shop things that were a lot better looking than the restaurants of downtown, with tarps and little neat shops, plus funny signs and giant chickens. We parked in a small parking area behind a place, and came out and around the corner it was on. We then walked past a restaurant, and there was a big table outside, with some party girls and a guy, with balloons. Mom took their picture, and we kept going on. Rebecca wanted to get boots in Texas, sort of as a ceremonial thing rather than wanting to wear them all the time, but I also needed to cut my bangs so we were to go to the barber shop before anything. Then there was that spinning cylinder on the wall to the shop, with the swirling red, white, and blue. The barber shop.

We looked into this single room, with little grey cushioned chairs up against a wall, with little coffee tables with magazines on them, and a door on the back wall. We saw people sitting down in chairs outside. Walking in the glass door, I looked around at my old surroundings, the white and black tile floor, the spinny chairs with the men with the up hair, and white suits, and little black ties, cutting the person who has the tarp over them. Behind them on a counter were mirrors, and then all kinds of liquids and bottles, like alchemly or sorcery. The guys stood here. All the chairs that the barbers were cutting people on were full, the three ones outside were full, and the ones along the left wall were all also full. And people were standing. So they were B-O-O-K-E-D BOOKED! I smelled in the sniff of hair and hair products, looking at the brown and black hairs on the floor. Dad said that we would come back later, as we waited for Mom to come down. She asked why weren't we in the barber shop, and Dad said it was full. Mom said we could always wait, you know. But Dad said it maybe would die down. We went more down, and there was a candy store with all sorts of treats, and they got plastic bags and put all the barreled stuff in there, then going to the cash register. I got some cube mints. I'm not a candy person.

Then we came to this one...interesting shop. There was a young man with some clipper, and a brown saddle box, with leather. He was snapping the edges. We asked him why he was doing this. He answered just to get some bad stuff in there out, all the loose hairs and stuff. I looked at the store's windows, and there was some old cameras in there, like the such that Dad collects at our house. I talked about them with him, and he said that that store was a very cool and interesting store. We walked in, and Mom quickly after coming in said that she needed to go to the restroom, but that she should've gone to the restroom at the restaurant. It was a cool little store, with licence plates and old children's books, cameras, CD's, and old clothes. Dad took us, saying it was time to go while I was looking at some books. We went back up to the Barber Shop, and Dad's prophecy was right, there were a few chairs in the middle missing, but people in between them. Dad sat alone and Rebecca and I sat almost at the end facing the street, where a tattooed girl sat. I looked around as Rebecca played on her phone, at the people laughing and talking, and the turning of magazine pages, and all the framed posters around. One was an old poster of H.G. Well's The Invisible Man. It was cool. But then I read some of my book.

People were called up as the minutes ticked by, and there was a guy with a small beard and mustache who was one barber at the back end, and two others, both tan with up hair. Up hair in Up Town. People came in, taking off small old things from the shelves above the chairs, and paying. The guy didn't have a credit card machine, and the one guy gave him the money as he put it in a drawer. Weird. That's an old way of doing things, I observed. More people passed along, as Mom came in. She sat with Mom, and later some seats at that end become vacant as a guy moved. Now we moved over there, with a camera between us. Rebecca sat on Mom's laugh, and giggled a little as Dad tickled her. My hair was in my eyes. Well, then they called up the next person. That would be me. Well, I didn't KNOW that, because the order of people in the chairs wasn't necessarily the order of people. But it was me. I got up, taking off my phone and giving Mom my book, and my jacket. The middle dude, young and with up black hair, and pretty tan, said hello as he lowered the chair and put the tarp over. He told me his name was Manning, or E Manning. I couldn't hear over all the hubbdub. I talked to him about a few things, and asked him a lot about the barber shop.

It had been around since like the 30's, in a few different location, and most of the stuff besides the floor and ceiling wasn't as old as I thought. E Manning had lived there most of his life, and he was a nice guy, kind of smart and focused to his work, not as outgoing but funny. I asked him later what his name; I didn't hear the name. Emmanuel! That made a lot more sense than E Manning. I addressed him as that for the rest of the time, as he snipped off the hair, asking me a lot if I wanted more. He was amazed I only wanted a small trim, and I kept telling him a SMALL trim, as other people that had cut my hair had bad jobs across the trip. Mom told him a few things, as he put in the gel. I asked him about the Invisible Man Poster, and he said that he didn't know where it came from, but that the owner was a collector of stuff. Emmanuel and I talked a little about the trip as he put the liquids in, and Dad got his haircut from the other guy by me on my left, but when you enter the right. We also talked about movies, and after I told him movies that had a lot of action in him he funnily said, "I guess you like Action, don't you?" He said he liked funny movies with good plots, and entertaining, and baseball movies like Moneyball. He asked if I wanted more done, and I said behind the ears. Snip, snip.

Then came the weirdest part. Without warning or asking of consent came this: whip cream like substances on my cheeks, and a razor's cold tips against my soft skin, and the sensation felt. I widened my eyes, feeling my first shave. He was really shaving off nothing more than a few hairs, the beginning of the manhood that comes. It was kind of scary, but Mom took pictures as the memorial moment was memorialized. I was proud of my first shave, at 12, on the Third of February. Ahem. I am a man now.

Emmanuel, the nice guy, was done. He brushed off the stuff and did a few final touches, and turned the chair around. I liked the short trim a lot actually. It was good. Thanking him I told him about the blog, and he asked me when I would be able to tell about him. "Probably on the 14th of February or later; I am really behind." Well, Emmanuel, I am telling about it on the 2nd of March, a little too late maybe. But not too much I hope. I hope you enjoy! Nice meeting you! Thanks for the great hair cut. As I made my exit, and closed the door, Emmanuel ran and opened it again, asking for me to write down the blog address. I wrote it down on a narrow slip of paper, up against the counter, giving it to them. I hoped it wasn't too messy. But thanks again Emmanuel.

We crossed a street light, and came to a boot store, while I texted Lauren a little. Not my sister but the girl that we wanted to see in Dallas. We stopped at there, and came in. Nobody really showed us anything or helped us out, even though we needed boots. I read more of my book after Mom showed me some girly belts, and we tried to find a good one among them. No go. After not finding a good pair of boots for Rebecca in this overpriced and under serviced old place, we went back to the car and drove home, as I waved my groomed fur...I mean my trimmed hair. We went to bed. Goodbye for now. It was a fun day.

Snip, snip! "OUCH! MAN YOU CUT MY EAR!" "Well, on the bright side, on Halloween you can go as an elf." "I'll show you elf, come here!" "AHHHH!",

Andrew.

Austin

Before Haircut