There is little difference between old people and rappers

Friday we took a day trip to Westville, Georgia.

What?  You have never heard of Westville! I cannot imagine why!

Westville is a fictitious town made up of a collection of federal style buildings and houses all dating from around 1850 or earlier. 

OK.  So it was somewhat of a geek thing to do, but we had been talking about it for a long time and wanted to see what is was all about.  Being interested in that period and style of architecture, we though we would give it a shot. 

Our farm is remote, but within 30 minutes I can get to a market that sells arugula or even a Target store when necessary.  However, Westville is far more remote being about an hour and a half south of us.

This collection of buildings was started near Atlanta in the 1950’s to showcase a lost way of life.  At some point the buildings were moved to their current 58 acre tract in rural Georgia.  The collection has been added to over the years and has saved many historic structures from demolition. 

It appears that on certain days the village is fully staffed with people wearing authentic clothing and working in the village as blacksmiths, cooks, shoe makers among other trades.  On the day we were there we spoke to a young girl in 1850 garb.  She told us she was bored.  I will refer to her as the village wench.

The place was completely empty.  For a while we had the village to ourselves and were able to explore each original plantation house, county courthouse and merchant building at our leisure - until the old people showed up!

The village wench had told us they were expecting a tour bus of about 65 ‘seniors’.  She did not seem particularly excited. 

A small farm house in the village has been turned into a restaurant.  It was the only place to get something to eat or drink.  I saw the ‘seniors’ when they entered the village and they made a beeline straight for the restaurant.  It was lunch time and I too was seriously considering food and drink.  However, as we walked toward the farmhouse and heard the ruckus coming from inside we decided that a late lunch would be more judicious! 

I would have starved first. 

After they all cleared out of the farmhouse restaurant we ventured in for lunch.  The place was a wreck and the two women who were working there looked frazzled.  They acknowledged that we were smart to have stayed clear until the ‘Seniors’ were done swarming the place.  The aftermath in the restaurant reminded me of the bar at the W Hotel in Midtown Atlanta after a Rap party.  OK, so I exaggerate a little, but you get the point – they were loud and unruly and left the place in a mess. 

Later, I noticed the ‘Seniors’ were split into 3 groups and officially toured through the village.  The ones with walking canes or hip replacements were loaded into several horse drawn wagons while the others rambled uncontrollably behind.  Once I heard them spontaneously break into song.  It was one of those old people tunes informing Jesus they would be seeing him soon. 

I am concerned.  Will I become like that?  Do we all fall into that type behavior?  Is it just something that happens with age and we get to the point were we no longer care what others think?  Or is it just that we become completely unaware of our surroundings?  Either way I am going to lose sleep over it!