Founding Fathers, that’s supposed to be your jam right?

My desire to see Captain was stronger than my fear of getting Ebola. So this past weekend I got on a plane at Logan and headed for the North Carolina State Fair. It’s just like the Big E, with a little more redneck and a lot more religion.

Reading-wise I’m two-thirds of the way through David McCullough’s 1,000 page Truman. I’m really enjoying it. On the 8am plane ride down to NC, I was surrounded by a middle-aged men’s golf weekend. It felt like I was crashing a really old bachelor party.

To the man sitting next to me: I don’t know what you’ve got going on down there, but I know it’s not so big that your legs need to be spread into my leg space.

I bury myself in Truman and don’t come up until the flight lands. A golf guy across the aisle remarks,

“Good book?”

“Yeah.”

“I really like his books.”

John Adams was my favorite.”

“Yeah, that was a good one.”

His buddy turns around,

“Who’s John Adams?”

There’s silence. His friends and I stare at him to see if this is a joke. It’s not a joke. He’s waiting for an answer. His buddy, who reads, tells him,

“John Adams was one of our presidents.”

“Was he a good guy?”

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