Twenty. Five.

Today is Mama and Daddy's anniversary! My parents have been married for a solid twenty five years today. That's a quarter of a century, friends. To celebrate, I went looking for wedding pictures.

yes, Daddy has the same glasses.

I will leave you with a conversation that occurred a few weeks ago when Mallory, Mama, and I sat down for lunch together at the house and got to talking about marriage.

"Mama, how did Daddy propose?"

"Well, he took me out on a date to Bonanza and then we stopped at one of the rest stops on the Natchez Trace and he just asked me if I wanted to get married."

"That's not very romantic, but Daddy's not really romantic now. Has he ever been romantic?"

"I had two kids didn't I?"

"Oh God! Oh God! Never ever ever ever say that again."

TMI, Mama, TMI.

Michael, do you like lesbians?

Not braggin' or nothing, but I don't think that I could have planned a better way to spend Memorial Day if I tried. I cut a trail with the Bunch's to a little island in Florida where there wasn't much to see except for sand crabs and retirees on their padded-seated bikes.

Now, my favorite part of the trip, other than seeing Ben Bunch get weird red designs on his back as a result of my sunblock application, was the company that was kept. This company included four Filipinos, an Uncle Bobby, who really isn't an Uncle at all, and Uncle Bobby's girlfriend, who has the most interesting haircut I have seen in all my life. We ate white rice with soy sauce and vinegar while talking about the time that Maw-Maw Bunch shot a buffalo in her front yard with a .22. Needless to say, I now have way more Mantachie stories than I can count and have picked up a few Filipino words.

Matthew kept running around speaking a English/Filipino mix. Except for when he'd poke you and say "hey hey hey! Fat Albert!"

When it got too hot outside to go to the beach, and it did, Ben and I rode our bikes to Fort Pickens, a Fort used for battle in the Civil War. On the way back, Ben's bike had a blowout, but lucky for us, Uncle Bobby spared us from the mile walk back.

Memorial Day was spent at the Pensacola Naval Aviation Museum. I don't know a thing about planes, but had a good time anyway. Mr. Paul and Ben drug me up to the top of the Pensacola lighthouse and let me just say that I was terrified. Yes, I have jumped out of a plane and plummeted toward the earth, but that lighthouse with its see-through, narrow, winding steps had my head spinning. Surely I wasn't the only one with rubber legs when I got to the top.

Did I mention that Memorial Day was gay pride weekend in Pensacola? Yep. It was. Complete with men in thong bikinis and rainbow flags everywhere. Ben took the opportunity to take mine and Mrs. Marcia's picture amongst a crowd of lesbian women. Thanks Ben.

T as in travel.

Last week I booked my first plane tickets ever. We all know how I like to travel, and the traveling pants come on as soon as the air conditioner comes on in the Whitehead house (sometimes before, because everyone knows how cheap T Dub can be with the electric bill). I am most excited about this trip in particular because I get to travel with two of my favorite people on the planet, Ben and Mallory, to see one of my other favorite people on the planet, Tara Morgan, in the grand American city of Washington DC. Now, the thought of visiting DC automatically takes me back to the 2007 BSU mission trip where Ashley McGee and I slipped into an involuntary coma on a concrete park bench rather than walking the short distance to see the White House. I have since learned my lesson about staying up all night, so I plan on being 300 times more alert this go-around. Our plans also include a train ride up to New York City, which I am bad excited about.

My head’s spinning thinking about the fun to be had, but back to the plane tickets, which was an adventure in itself. After several failed attempts to book the plane tickets online, I broke down and called CheapTickets to get the job done. I then spent the next hour on the phone with Maria, who had a weird Yankee-Hispanic accept and who S, as in Sally, P as in Penny, E as in Edward, L as in London, another L as in London, E as in Edward, D as in Dallas eveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerything. Our conversation could have been finished in about ten minutes, but when someone insists on spelling out a whole sentence, it just takes a while. Nevertheless, we’re going to DC!

Tomorrow, however, I will encounter three of my favorite things: the beach, camping, and Ben Bunch. I’m pumped!

Warm heart.

The Journal interviewed this man regarding the Great Flood of 1927 for yesterday's paper. From what he could remember, his dad made his mom and the kids, himself included, leave the Delta and head to higher ground. Valley Grant and the colored hand stayed behind to help the stubborn folks.

"They helped pick folks up who were stranded," Grant said. "He told me one time they went up to an attic of an old house. There was an old black man up there.

"(Valley Grant) said, 'Come on up in the boat, and we'll take you out.'

"He said, 'Can I bring my chickens?'

"They said, 'No, you can't bring your chickens.'

"So he stayed with his chickens. Don't know what happened to him."

There sure isn't anything like good story-tellin', chicken love, and the wrath of God.

As I type, there is a crew from the County in the backyard cleaning up the mess made from the storm that brought all of those tornado's a few weeks ago. There's no doubt that we're blessed beyond measure when I look at our neighbors in Smithville and such, but I can't help but having a fuzzy feeling in my gut when I see people help their neighbors. :)

P.S. School's out for summer and I'm hooooooooooooooooooooooome!!!