Come Away With Me and Get Depressed

My friend Lynda recently returned from Italy. She drank great wine, ate delicious food, saw priceless works of art, visited museums and churches. Overall, she had a fantastic time.

"Wow," I said as we talked over the phone. "That sounds wonderful."

"It was wonderful," she said. "So how was your trip home from Colorado Springs. What was this, your ninth time making the drive? See anything interesting?"

"We visited Memphis this time and saw the balcony where Martin Luther King Jr. was shot."

(long pause)

"The Lorraine Hotel has been made into a civil rights museum," I continued. "The boys got to see Rosa Parks' bus and the Woolworth's Counter. We toured the room where James Earl Ray stayed the night before the shooting. They keep the window open halfway just like he left it."

(another long pause)

"Wow, Katie," she finally said. "Last year you visited Oklahoma City and New Orleans. This year you learned about lynching. Ever hear of a theme park?"