Yesterday I attended a history confurence in sunny Panama City Beach, Florida. (You may remember me squeaking about my favorite PCB hole-in-the-wall, Margarataville, in a previous blog.) The confurence was interesting – as interesting as confurences can be on a sunny Saturday afternoon just miles off the beach (which is, to squeak, not very). Nonetheless, I had a pretty good time.
The humans presented info on a diverse array of topics: everything from attitudes in the World War II military to breaking the color line in baseball. But I must admit, my favorite squeaker – er, speaker – told us all about the history of cheese.
Things were going along swimmingly, in fact, until I got up to present my topic, the Bubonic Plague, and promptly cleaned out the room! It seems the humans were afraid I was squeaking from first-paw experience. I suppose that’s what happens when you let the rat out of the bag.
Keepin’ it squeak,
Bob
(Congratulations to my human, Sandra McGill, on her second-place win at the 2015 American Journalism Historians Association Southeast Symposium!)
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