My parents live in St. Michaels, Maryland. It is a lovely, quaint old village on the Chesapeake Bay full of retirees and other wealthy-types. They have a wonderful maritime museum that my kids love, complete with a lived-in lighthouse, and lots of antique shops and other high-end boutique-ey stores. It's a great place for a weekend getaway with bed and breakfasts and quiet inns. And of course there's Justine's, with the best homemade ice cream you've ever had. For years my youngest son begged to go to the maritime museum every time we visited, then my dad figured out that Elijah thought Justine's was part of it. No wonder they were so interested in the maritime history of the Chesapeake!
Anyway, I said all that to bear this bit of very bad news: Michael Jackson has reportedly bought an estate in St. Michaels. You can read the basics here. I wrote my parents an e-mail today telling them to run for their lives before the madness invades their lovely little corner of the world. It's really sad though, seriously. Doesn't the King of Pedophiles understand or care that everywhere he goes is changed for the worse?
Be thankful ~