May 9, 2015
The First Amendment Is Greater Than The Second Amendment
Maquoketa, Iowa
Editor's Note:
I wrote out my entire day in my little notebook a couple of hours ago. When I re-read it and started typing it online at the computer my motel provides for guests, I said to myself, "If somebody else had written this, I would consider the reporter to be just plain mean." Here at The Journal-Picayune, we do not tolerate "mean." Maybe "smart-ass." Maybe "opinionated," but not "mean." Nevertheless, in defense of the 1st Amendment, I decided NOT to edit my own words and to let them stand for all eternity.
As I draped my wet rainfly over the picnic table of my neighboring campsite, another camper and his four kids came over to see what I was up to. He introduced himself as Dan, asked about my trip, and told me about an air show that was taking place today.
"This will be a perfect place to view it," he said. "The planes will be taking off from the airport in Mount Joy (7-miles away) and it should be a great show. The Thunderbirds are even going to be performing." (The Thunderbirds are the amazing U.S. Air Force aerobatics team.)
"Dan, I sure wish you hadn't told me about that, because now I'm conflicted. I'm always restless to keep moving on, but I'd love to stay another day and watch the airshow from here. Maybe I can see some of it while I'm breaking camp."
He grabbed his phone and went on-line. "It looks like the actual flying doesn't begin until until noon." After a pause he added, "Did you see some of the jets flying in last night?"
"No, I went to bed early but I HEARD some jets. I just thought the Quad Cities had a surprisingly busy airport. But that reminds me--as I was biking here I DID see a small jet flying over the highway doing some aerobatic maneuvers. I thought it might have been a single rogue pilot showing off while on a joyride."
I should have hung around for another day, but I didn't.
The airplane crowd wasn't the only group gathering for the day. Just south of De Witt, the gun nuts enthusiasts were having a field day at a shooting range. Pow Pow Pow Pow Pow Bang Pow Pow Pow Kaboom Pow Pow Pow Pow Pow Bang Pow Pow Pow!! It was just a whole bunch of gunmen excercising their 2nd Amendment rights, shooting at targets--probably in preparation for a liberal government takeover.
A little north of De Witt there was a flea market for the Harley riding crowd. Sometimes Harley riders treat me like one of them when we come across each other. They give me that low wave from the side, or sometimes flash a peace sign or a thumbs up. The ones who purposely blast their loud pipes as they pass, or the ones who sideswipe me, are the ones I call "Biker Scum"--just as they are probably thinking of me as "Biker Sissy." See how I can always look at both sides of the equation?
De Witt seemed like a nice town, though I was only passing through. While doing so I had one of those strange conversations with myself.
"Ya know, De Witt sorta sounds like Dimwit," I stated.
"Yeah, you're right, it does," I agreed.
"I think it would be cool if the local high school sports teams were called the De Witt Dimwits."
"That's just plain offensive," I said to myself.
"No, bear with me for a minute. It would be awesome if De Witt's football team was really, really good and the opposing team--called the Lions for instance--kept calling them dimwits during the game. Then De Witt pounded them! Something like 72-0. It would be hilarious to see The Lions crying at the feet of a team of Dimwits."
"That WOULD be funny," I conceded.
"And then the Dimwits would steal all of the Lions' girlfriends."
I rejoined the epic Highway 61 north of De Witt and got a taste of the hilly part of Iowa. I'm worried about the hills and the predicted severe thunderstorms that await me tomorrow.
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Today's ride: 32 miles (51 km)
Total: 1,300 miles (2,092 km)
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