Like painted kits those days and nights they went flying by
Thursday was another day of sleeping in very late and having not really much idea what to do for lunch. My recollections of lunch this visit with my parents are of making a lot of sandwiches with oddly-chopped-off bits of the cheeses that we never buy because they're too expensive and too hard to make plausible sandwiches from, glued together with mayonnaise. Also there were many attempts to get my parents' Keurig explained to us, ending finally in our quiet resolve to just happen to never want to bother using it (for me) or to somehow always having loose grounds and the wrong amount of water in the cup (for bunny_hugger).
We did relieve my parents' anxiety that we weren't doing anything by talking a bit about things we might do. My parents mentioned how much they had enjoyed the movie Hidden Figures, for example, and we said we might just go see that. (We did, eventually, two weeks ago.) And then we took up my father's suggestion of a miniature golf course nearby. My sister and her husband had enjoyed it as a low-key event when they visited some time before and, sure, that's the kind of thing we'd like doing even in normal circumstances.
The golf course had recently --- as in, within the previous two weeks --- changed its name and lost or given up the franchise license it had. It had clearly been part of that pirate-themed miniature golf chain we'd gone to in Traverse Bay a couple years ago; they still had many of the signs about Blackbeard or other pirates. My father joined us in playing, and one of us (I forget who) made the mistake of getting a green ball, which is not ideal for miniature golf at twilight.
Inside the main arcade building were the sorts of video and redemption games we'd expect from something like Kokomo's or any other family fun center. No pinball; I hadn't expected any, but my father was disappointed he wouldn't be able to see us in action. They did have a nice-looking shooting gallery with a bear-figured bartender, which is the sort of thing that makes sense for the reasons. The place also had a tiny indoor bumper-cars track, which seems like madness, although I suppose it isn't really any less credible than any portable bumper-car track for a travelling carnival or the like.
We went back to my parents' home for dinner, and learned that sometime since our arrival the town my parents are in had turned off the main street's Christmas lights and struck the decorations. It wasn't yet the Epiphany, although it was close, I suppose. Still seemed early.
In the evening I spent time reading from a book of The Charleston Knowledge. It's this tome issued by City Hall containing the stuff that people who want to be licensed tour guides should know about what they're guiding about. My father got a copy for my mother, to support her passing fancies about running ``Old Ladies Walking Tours'' of the city to places that don't require walking too long or fast all at once. So the book is this bundle of trivia about the city, including to my delight notes about commonly-told yet erroneous beliefs about the city. You have no idea how much I love reading anything that claims to correct a mistaken belief even if it was about a belief I had never heard of nor imagined hearing about before. I don't know if my mother is going to get her tour-guide license, but she's got idle reading for ages if she doesn't. Study material if she does.
Trivia: Truth or Consequences went on the air 23 March 1940 on CBS for Ivory Soap, with Ralph Edwards as host and Mel Allen as announcer.
Source: Quiz Craze, Thomas A DeLong.
Currently Reading: A Horrible Experience of Unbearable Length: More Movies That Suck, Roger Ebert.