Wednesday, November 16, 2005
northern parentage
My parents were in town over the weekend. My dad was scouting the BC-NC State for the Peach Bowl (alongside former 49'er and NCAA hall-of-famer George Morris), and so my mom came along. We had some laughs - freezing our asses off at Minute Man Park, failing to find an open restaurant during the great Lexington gas crisis of '05, hanging out in a mall - and hopefully they'll be able to come visit again soon.
Sunday was the highlight. We drove over to Old Sturbridge Village, a working reenactment of a small 1830's New England town. We stood in actual buildings from actual small 1830's New England towns, including a Quaker meeting house. There was a general store, and a one-room school-house, and a genuine farm. We walked through many houses, rich, poor, and in the middle-ish, both rural and slightly-not-quite-as-rural. In their wonderful tavern we ate authentic period food, like hamburgers and Doritos. We stood in a fake cemetary with real headstones. We smelled what horse manure smelled like in the 1830's. We observed the inner machinations of not one, not two, but three different types of mills. Most importantly, I learned the correct way to appreciate a goat. It was an amazing afternoon for this history buff, and I strongly recommend Old Sturbridge Village to anybody who winds up anywhere near Worcester. It's truly historiffic.
My parents were in town over the weekend. My dad was scouting the BC-NC State for the Peach Bowl (alongside former 49'er and NCAA hall-of-famer George Morris), and so my mom came along. We had some laughs - freezing our asses off at Minute Man Park, failing to find an open restaurant during the great Lexington gas crisis of '05, hanging out in a mall - and hopefully they'll be able to come visit again soon.
Sunday was the highlight. We drove over to Old Sturbridge Village, a working reenactment of a small 1830's New England town. We stood in actual buildings from actual small 1830's New England towns, including a Quaker meeting house. There was a general store, and a one-room school-house, and a genuine farm. We walked through many houses, rich, poor, and in the middle-ish, both rural and slightly-not-quite-as-rural. In their wonderful tavern we ate authentic period food, like hamburgers and Doritos. We stood in a fake cemetary with real headstones. We smelled what horse manure smelled like in the 1830's. We observed the inner machinations of not one, not two, but three different types of mills. Most importantly, I learned the correct way to appreciate a goat. It was an amazing afternoon for this history buff, and I strongly recommend Old Sturbridge Village to anybody who winds up anywhere near Worcester. It's truly historiffic.
