So I had a little time on my hands yesterday and I decided to take a trip in my Wayback Machine. I decided a nice day with America's favorite past time might be fun (with a twist), so off I went to the late Nineteen Century somewhere in the South.
Everyone was perfectly pleasant, but I had to be very careful to keep my fancy newfangled picture box out of sight. Oh, they had photography back then, but the sight of my 40D might convince the excitable masses that I was a minion of the devil.
That may be, but gosh darn it, I wanted some pictures before I was run out of town on a rail. I grabbed this shot and then settled in with a hotdog and some lemonade to enjoy the game.
I was eventually run out of town, but not because of the camera. Word of warning: when lurking about the South some odd hundred years ago or so, don't say that Miss Larabie's fried chicken isn't quite as good as your Mom's. No, just keep it to yourself and move on to the apple pie. Yessiree, Bob. I can't stress that enough.
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