I love riding my bike through small town cemeteries. There is always something surprising. This time it was a no trespassing sign and a guard with a shotgun and twelve empty beer cans. He let me go with the promise of bringing him more beer.
I did not plan to go back but as I passed a package store I was compelled to fulfill my promise. I bought a six pack and went back. The cemetery was empty. Ten of the guards cans were stacked in a pyramid. I sat and shared my Red Stripes with R. Morgan D. 1893.