I just got back from visiting my Grampa (I know it's "Grandpa", but we say it with an m down here). He told me about when he was in the army and air force back in '49-'51. He was all over the place. He and Grandma were in Orlando for a while, and he said back then it didn't seem much bigger than the size of Albemarle now. Grandma would just reach out the window and pick a couple oranges for some juice at breakfast. He was also in London, Boston, Puerto Rico, and a lot of other places. He told me about this guy that was drunk one night and wouldn't shut up. Grampa had tried to get him to leave several times and the drunk guy finally got him so aggravated that he hit him. He aimed for the side of his face but the guy was moving all over the place and it landed on his temple. He fell right over the table, knocked out. My grampa's a really nice man, so it takes a lot to get him to do something like that. I love hearing about the past. I get extremely nostalgic all the time. I don't know why. I guess that's why I love history so much, also. I hope Papa's with us for a long time to come. He's 75 right now and in good health, so I might get that wish. Yeah I know this isn't interesting to anyone else, but oh well.