Information, Please...
by Steve West on April 8, 2017

Shortly after I obtained my driver's license, I got brave enough to travel a longer distance than the liquor store. I headed to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania to visit the historic battlefield. I had always been a Civil War nut (short of reenactments) and Antietam I had seen recently (someone else drove). But Gettysburg I had seen only in textbooks. I wanted to absorb the feel of the grounds where Lincoln had stood delivering his famous speech after so many had perished. I wanted to envision the calamity of Pickett's Charge and wonder at how the Confederate Army was allowed to escape such a devastating defeat.
I drove to the city center with no problems and entered a building described as the Gettysburg Information Center. Perfect! Lots of cool pamphlets and souvenirs were offered to my delight but I primarily needed directions. I asked a lady employee in period dress where the battlefield was. She replied that the whole town was pretty much the battlefield. Not to quibble over the matter but I was sure that the conflict was concentrated over a specific area so I rephrased my question. So, if back in the day, I were to hear cannon fire, which direction would it be coming from? She squinted her eyes and was obviously torn by a question that left her so few options to cavil with. So I interrupted her facial tics to ask her a different question instead, This is an Information Center, correct? Enthusiastic response of Yes! Then could you direct me to the nearest location that could provide me with actual, helpful information? When she started eying the period muskets on the wall, I assured her I was joking and would satisfy myself with some brochures. Exit, stage left.
Three Replies to Information, Please...
Steve West | April 11, 2017
That would have been a smart thing to ask but I was largely naïve about such things at the time. Simply a smartass trying to become not one.
Scott Hardie | April 13, 2017
Good story, but come on, the Civil War's not supposed to be funny.
Your story makes me think I should plan a trip up there. I've seen a lifetime's worth of Abe Lincoln history in Springfield, Illinois, a town that depends more on Lincoln for tourism than Roswell depends on aliens or Hershey depends on chocolate. But I haven't been to Gettysburg, where I imagine there's a lot more to take in.
Web Junkie
Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »

Halloween Post #1: Too Early For Halloween?
Yes, it's too early for Halloween. However, if you plan to order or make a Go »
Not All Heroes Wear Capes
At 11:00 a.m., Brenda called me from the school where she works and told me that she had fallen and was unable to drive home. She needed me to 1) find a second driver for her car, 2) come get her and take her to urgent care and 3) make sure that Olivia is taken care of when she arrives home in an hour. Go »
Strike Two
Brenda and I attended a school meeting today to discuss the battery of assessments needed to properly develop an education plan for Olivia. After hearing the assessments from the primary teacher, occupational therapist, speech therapist and physical therapist, we got to the part that was a stunner to say the least - the school psychologist. After giving her report which mimicked the other reports to a large degree, she informed us that she felt it was time to officially put it in the record that Olivia was intellectually disabled. Go »
I Tap My Magic Wand
This is just the coolest fountain. It may appear photoshopped but this actually has a pipe hidden within the water flow that supplies the water. I really have hopes that when I buy "Barbie's Dream House" (the euphemism my daughter and I use for our future house), a smaller version of this will be in my library. Go »
I'm a Doctor, Not a Kitchen Appliance!
My toaster has a timer on it that let's you know when it's finished. It seems a little silly to add a timer beeping that's a redundant addition to the toast loudly popping up from the machine that means the same thing. So now, because the timer emits a sound eerily similar to an EKG indicating flatline, every time it goes off I'll say to Brenda, "He's bread, Jim." Go »
Lori Lancaster | April 11, 2017
[hidden by author request]