This morning at 8:30 AM CST, I showed up at the Montrose Brown Line (That's a public transit locale, for ye non-Chicagoan "like"-rs). I met some fellow actors and soon-to-be-famous people for what I thought would be a regular ole 1776 gig -- you know, an hour-long performance in an overpacked cafetori-gym, given to over 100 disinterested fifth graders who, after the show, would just want to know how we "memorized all those words."
How foolish of me not to recognize the magic and adventure that each dawning day provides. When I piled into the usual old blue cargo van with those usual actors expecting the usual routine . . . I was instead whisked away to a castle. An enchanted castle. And no, this is not some piece-of-shit children's amusement facility! This was a REAL CASTLE. There were turrets and torches on the walls. There were fine curtains. There was even a princess with a piano and a dragon with a trumpet.
Did I say "noodle hat?" I meant broadsword.
In any case, you can also see that on May 8, 1776, four colonies on the big board were in favor of American independence. This is historically accurate. The Second Continental Congress had a big board.
After the performance, the queen of the castle let me spin the birthday wheel.
Did I say "spin the birthday wheel?" I meant "participate in a jousting competition."
Then they gave me a free slice of pizza!
You know, now I've got myself thinking. What kind of castle has noodle hats? And pizza?
Wait a minute.
I don't think it was a real castle after all. I think it was an Italian castle*! What a disappointment. I'm glad I didn't stay and play the arcade games.
Did I say "play the arcade games?" I meant "redeem my tickets at the prize counter."
. . .
* Everybody knows that Italian castles are super disappointing and not considered by most history experts to be "real."