And I got a T-shirt. I don’t have the shirt any more, but I do have a picture of me wearing it when I was ten years old that I have to scan soon… here’s the beginning of the story if you want all the sordid details, byt the bottom line is, when I was ten, I went on a car ride across country with my grandparents, I wanted to go to Dinosaurland, my grandfather didn’t, but we went anyway.
It turned out to be little more than a Roadside Attraction in rural Virginia consisting of a long and looping gravel path through a hilly area where there were life-size(I think) papier-mache’ replicas of dinosaurs. I took a bunch of pictures, but I lost them, and, as I have already stated, I no longer have the T-shirt. I will always remember my time there, though, and the sanitized catchphrase (first uttered by my irascible grampa) ‘we are not going to effin’ Dinosaurland!’ will live on in family lore forever…