Commentary: Jase Graves - US history, on the refrigerator door
Jase Graves
FacebookTwitterEmail
It’s time for another installment of “Places you should go before you can’t tell a presidential executive order document from one of your White House German shepherd’s training pads.” Yes, recently my wife and three teenage daughters took a week-long family trip to Charleston, South Carolina — also known as “The city where every meal will cost you at least two C-notes.”
Because we enjoy turning our buns into geological formations, we drove the entire 14-hour trip from East Texas to downtown Charleston, stopping only occasionally to sample the delights of various Southern powder rooms, usually in rural gas stations tempting us with boiled peanuts and pickles in a bag.