28 04 2008

phantasmagoriaI took my parents to the McColl Center, a museum in a very old refurbished church.  They used the basement for an exhibit that my school and another local high school had come together an created under the influence of another art exhibit that was on the next two floors up of the museum.  On the way in, a lady approached us in the parking lot, and asked my dad, in the name of Jesus Christ, to spare a few dollars so that she could feed her kids.  Her hair was messed up and there was a cut over her left eye with some dried blood on it.  My dad, being the cautious man that he is, inquired as to where her kids were and how she got hurt.  She motioned vaguely behind her and said that her husband had jumped her.  My dad pulled out his wallet, saying that he could help out a little bit, giving her two dollars.  She mentioned something about “enough for a pizza” but my dad said he didn’t think so. “God Bless you” and we went into the museum.  I don’t really feel like describing the museum.