After months of delaying it, I finally took Graham to the tank museum in Danville this past Saturday. There were some surprises. For instance, I was a little surprised to learn that flash photography was a strict no no, because the tanks were so delicate and sensitive to UV light. But, OK.
Admission was $10 for adults, $9.50 for kids under 12 and seniors. You know we hit them up for that fat discount. It was a little disappointing, having paid all that money, to learn that firearms were not allowed. What about my right to bear arms?! The lady at the counter gave me a map and showed me where the "latrines" were. While I was paying and then taking his camera back to the car, I told Graham to go in and look around. I meant the gift shop, so I was a little nonplussed when he had hied off into the cavernous museum itself.
And I really needed to pee, and thought he might too, so I hustled into the bathroom, calling out his name. A guy in there, who looked a little like George Carlin, told me he hadn't seen anybody. This guy had a pistol in a holster on his belt which, given the proscription on guns, confused me. Turns out, he was an employee -- one of perhaps two in this massive hanger-like facility that held some 60 tanks and personnel carriers. So that made sense. I mean, of course employees might need a gun or two, just in case somebody else snuck one in.
(to be continued....)
No comments:
Post a Comment