The first story isn't really a story, it's more of an observation. I remember being younger and going on a field trip to Plymouth in elementary school. We went to the Plantation, saw a reproduction of the Mayflower, and went to see Plymouth Rock. That's when I was introduced to what I believe is one of life's greatest disappointments. I always heard about the Great Plymouth Rock. It's the "cornerstone" of our history. Growing up in Massachusetts, I think we covered the Pilgrims three times a year or something. So I was expecting this great big rock. It was THE rock after all. We pulled up to the site and were told to look down this well thing. Weird I thought. The rock must take up the whole bottom of this thing. NOPE! I've never felt so cheated. I think I'm bigger than Plymouth Rock.
| From Wikipedia |
Next story is an actual story. My sister was born in Plymouth so we had to go pick her up from the Hospital there to bring her home. The exit you get off at has a Native American totem pole in front of it. Every trip to the Cape, my parents would point out the exit and say "That's where we got Maggie!" I always thought we got her from a Native American Tribe. No joke. It took me years to figure out that the totem was just Plymouth's way of capitalizing on the history and tourism. Good ol' America!
That is all. Oh, and Happy Birthday NeverTooLate!
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