Children, gather 'round your old Grandma Em and I'll tell you a story from my youth. In those days, Grandpa and I lived in Evansville. You've heard me speak of those times as "the dark years." Anyway, there came a time every year in late June (this was before the land was annexed to Canada) when a gathering called the Freedom Festival was held. Hydroplane boat races, acrobatic air shows and above all, children, lots of cheap beer and drunk rednecks.
Now, I know you are thinking, Grandma you crazy! But I actually lived where this happened and was done in the name of those who died protecting and serving our country.
Anyway, the main reason why this Festival disgusted me is that part of my "job" was to recruit volunteers to sell buttons to those wanting to attend. I thought it would be impossible to get people to stand outside in 95 degree heat and be around some of the most obnoxious drunk people ever for 4 hour stretches.
But people would fight each other and lie about signing up to volunteer, just so they could get the free gate passes. There was no reasoning with these people who would almost beg.
Now children, enough storytelling for today.