Gratuitous Touron Blegging

Yes, although regular camelidophiles know that a substantial portion of my spring and summah blogging is devoted to savaging the tourons who invade Your Nation's Capital, the shoe is shortly to go on the other hoof. (Lest you believe I hold Dee Cee to be anything special, by the way, let me clarify that I don't. I just happen to work here and would gripe equally about the tourons if I worked in Los Angeles, Chicago or Sioux Falls.)

Aaaaanyway, our progress up the East Coast this year is going to involve a stopover in Bahstahn to visit Mrs. Robbo's sister and her family. And in that Energizer Bunny way that she has, Mrs. R has gotten the idea that it would be nice for the gels to go into the city and do something touristy with their cousins. Thus, on Friday the plan is for all of us to go to the Museum of Science and hop one of those Duck Tours.

I am breezily assured that there will be no trouble driving into town, parking at the museum and making our rendezvous, but I have a keen sense of fuss and bother and the truth is that I smell trouble coming down the wind.

Thus my bleg: Is my premonition justified? Or am I just being needlessly crabbed about this business?

(BTW, I intend to wear my loudest pair of bermudas, a day-glo fanny-pack and a t-shirt saying "Michael 4 Evah". I also intend to break every traffic law I can think of; to stand in the middle of the sidewalk pouring over maps and dropping ice-cream; and to constantly ask passers-by if they can point me to Fenway Field.)