Museums are not my favorite thing. They have a lot in common with history.

Although now after having been enthralled with John Adams and having a small desire to go see his farm in Quincy, I’m open to the possibility that I’m still developing as a human being. Maybe someday I’ll feel different about museums. It hasn’t happened yet.

Along our bike ride, my boyfriend and I go past the JFK Library. He remarks,

“I want to go in there sometime.”

Noted. We keep riding. On the way back he circles around the outside of the museum. I offer,

“We can go in if you want.”

We go in. I see a sign for a cafe. I tell him,

“I want to go there.”

We have a snack. We look out at the view. I ask,

“Do you want to go into the museum part?”

“No. I’m ready to go.”

“This is my kind of museum visit.”