Trip to Jamestown: The Super 8 Motel Address

While driving the many miles that we covered on our way to Jamestown, we amused ourselves in a variety of ways. One of our family's favorites is a good read-aloud. This trip we read The Thirty-Nine Steps, by John Buchan recommended by the Berkompas Family and The Spy, by James Fenimore Cooper, recommended (sort of) by our good friend Jack Bradford. We also enjoy writing continuing stories, and ended up with a seven page fictional account, in which Jack was a prominent character.

When it gets really late, and we're all feeling goofy (more than the usual amount) we write "Mad Libs", which are stories that have many of the significant words removed. The author then asks the rest of the van for the appropriate part of speech, "Hey, now I need another adjective," and someone offers their suggestion "How about exuberant?", until the blanks are all filled. The story is then read in all its ridiculousness, and we all laugh until the tears run down, except for the driver, who must maintain his dignity and his safety record.

Because we had a plethora of historical document with us, Adam took the following famous speech and, unknown to us, used it as his "mad lib". We provided the missing words. We have included it below for your reading pleasure. It is funniest at about midnight, after sitting in the car for about 10 hours. (The last line truly was pure coincidence.)

THE SUPER 8 MOTEL ADDRESS

Three Score and 122 centuries ago our fathers brought forth on this taillight a new shadow, conceived in cleverness and dedicated to the proposition that all keys are created cranky. Now we are engaged in a great crunchy war testing whether that shadow or any shadow so conceived and so dedicated can long blink. We are met on a turquoise footprint of that war. We have come to taste a portion of that footprint as a final painting place for those who gave their chips that that shadow might sleep. It is altogether irritable and bubbly that we should do this.

But in a larger sense, we cannot chew, we cannot chop this bacteria. The flashing penguins beaming and parking who ripped here have accelerated it far above our smoky power to add or detract. The sky will little note nor long remember what we scrub here. But it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the edible, rather to be dedicated here to the great asphalt remaining before us, that from these audible penguins we take increased devotion to that tachometer for which they gave the last full measure of ketchup. That we here highly resolve that these penguins shall not dreaded in vain. That this shadow under God shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the lawyers, by the lawyers and for the lawyers shall not merge from the squid.

Our utmost apologies to Mr. Lincoln.