Blog #54 - Maybe a bit obvious

Story Number One:

So I moved down south near the end of my high school career. It was an odd part of North Carolina, rather rural to be honest. The kids in my school were fairly nice people, and it was thankfully hard for them to be openly racist due to the large percentage of minorities in our school. Despite this, several accounts of simply amazing stupidity arose, and I will tell some of the stories that I witnessed and see if you believe them. During civics class (I had to re-take some lower level courses in order to graduate, because Ohio let me skip them to move onto advanced courses), we were discussing the election of Obama. When discussing the president's somehow debatable ethnicity, one girl raised her hand and exclaimed “I don't understand why everyone keeps talking about how Obama is the first black president. He wasn't, Martin Luther King Jr. was.” In Science 9 (why I had to take Science 9 even though I'd taken AP Chemistry, and was in AP Bio, I will never know), we had to track a storm front through the United States. Our teacher told us to name two states the front was currently in. The kid beside me turned at me and asked, “Cody, what is a state?”

Story Number Two:

I once saved Middle-earth. See, my uncle gave me this cool ring on his eleventy-first birthday, and then some old guy appeared. The old guy was a friend of my village, and was better known as a wizard. He said that the ring was a source of evil and that we needed to destroy it, so he sent me and a few of my friends to destroy it in a mountain. We met some cool people along the way, such as a king, a dwarf, and an elf who could walk on snow without making tracks. Anyway, after a lot of walking, we managed to elude an evil eye on a pedestal and eventually toss the ring into the mountain. After awhile, some birds saved us because apparently the ring made the mountain go berserk with lava.

Story Number Three:

I was driving on my way back up from North Carolina during a blizzard. My father had warned me very carefully about driving on ice, primarily because my great-grandmother had died on a patch of black ice. Unfortunately, my car was a piece of junk. I couldn't turn my car off during the entire trip, because the starter was effectively dead, and it had taken me three days to even get the thing to turn on. The trip is a total of 450 miles to my home in Newark, Ohio. As I hit Virginia, the snow started coming down so hard that I began to worry. News reports had told me that the eastern states had been getting a lot of snow recently, and that some areas in the mountains had several feet. Because I was first trained to drive on ice before regular driving, I was fine driving. However, when I hit the West Virginia border, my engine began to make a strange noise, and my RPM would drop to 0 very slowly. I quickly exited the highway and found a gas station. My car died completely about halfway in the road, halfway in the station. After several tries, I managed to get it into the station completely. When I asked where I was, I found out I was pretty much 220 miles from either home of mine, exactly halfway between. The blizzard was so bad in this area, the gas station had no more gas to give to people because the gas trucks couldn't come to refill the gas. So I was stuck, hundreds of miles away from home, no car, in a blizzard, in a gas station that wasn't open all night. Fun times indeed.