Just before Christmas my aunts and grandmother stuffed me into a Volkswagen Beetle for a trip to Williamsburg with a plan that included nothing but shopping. At five, I was not really too excited, but Colonial Williamsburg would offer me a chance to run around and pretend that I was catching passes from Roger Staubach. Little did I know that my day would be spent walking between clothing racks at Binns and Casey’s. Women’s clothing stores are not the best place to dream of hauling in long bombs. Fortunately, these women of marathon like shopping endurance finally got hungry and took me to High’s Ice Cream, where I inhaled a hot dog and two scoops of Swiss Chocolate Almond on a waffle cone.
Binns is still there. Casey’s, High’s, and I have been long gone, but the memories are still fresh. Maybe it all happened this way. Maybe it didn’t.