Tomorrow (Friday Nov 11th) is ‘Kiss a Veteran’ Day.  At least, that is what Ann tells me.  Having served in the Air Force and been blown up during a terrorist bombing, I will take her word for what Veteran’s day should mean.

Ann is a survivor of the 1996 Khobar Tower blast.  She had just come inside from playing volleyball during some downtime and was sitting against a wall in the apartment (where the arrow points in the picture to the right) when a  driver neared the building with a truck, jumped out, and started to walk away. The threat was recognized immediately, but not everyone could be warned in time.  The bomb exploded. Ann’s fellow volleyball players were killed, along with the terrorist. Despite being inside the apartment, the explosion left her with lingering physical issues, but never damaged her spirit.  So, find a veteran, kiss them, and thank them.  I promise to do my part.

TRIP UPDATE:

I haven’t seen a classic jeep in two days.  I think I am getting the shakes.  Fortunately, we are headed to Bob’s where I can get my fix.  The Willys sickness is unforgiving.

We spent last night in Cincinnati.  I liked the town enough that I’d like to go back some time.  The Cincinnati Art Museum was particularly nice, as was Eden Park which surrounds the museum.  While in Cincinnati, I also got lost once, which lead me to Kentucky.  After quickly turning around and then turning on the GPS, we found our way back into the city.

In addition, I managed to run only one red light the entire time driving in the city.  But, as I pleaded to Ann, after running through it and then almost missing my exit, it wasn’t my fault because the car in front of me also badly ran the light and I was just following that car.  And, in my defense, the lights were positioned oddly in the intersection, so they weren’t very obvious.

Now, if my mother read the above paragraph, she might just be getting a little nervous.  Because, only two days ago I called her and asked where her insurance card was.  She immediately realized that I had been stopped for speeding.  I escaped with just a warning, because, again in my defense, I thought I was only going 79 in a 75, but the very understanding officer clocked me at 82.  Then, the officer educated me on driving in Nebraska.  He told me that Nebraska had zero-tolerance for speeding, so vehicles traveling at any speed over 75 would be stopped.  I wanted to inform him that many states in the West have a softer stance on speeding, but thought that wound’t go over so well.  Instead, I thanked him for the information and we proceeded at 75 for the remainder of Nebraska.

Don’t worry mom, we are having a great time and the car is safe!