I'm in Gettysburg, bitches!
Pennsylvania is a promising place to be on the day of the rapture. Exhibits A and B:
That tested my comfort zone. But I forged ahead to Gettysburg and got a room at the Hampton Inn. I think I'll start doing this to my shower curtain:
Gettysburg is an odd town. After the WalMart, Staples, and McDonald's, there is a tight downtown that centers around a roundabout.
It looks calm in that picture, but it's actually hectic and loud. Lots of motorcycles revving. And every street was lined with people selling stuff, like a stretched-out flea market. I liked this woman's stuff, especially the big wooden fish.
Right nearby is an inexplicably creepy figure of Lincoln giving a bland guy directions.
For dinner, I went to the famed Farnsworth Inn. It's covered in bullet holes from a shootout during the war. You can see a couple here, above the window.
So it seems a little odd (to me anyway) that a town's main street can run through a national park. But after their blatant display of prostitution, nothing surprised me. Just a minute up the road on Baltimore Street is Gettysburg National Military Park. Completely serene, aside from the motorcycles. I spent a little time in the cemetery and the location of the Battle of Cemetery Hill. I don't know anything about the battle at Gettysburg, so I'll just roll the film...