I have had an epiphany, I can see it now: The World Famous Scranton Joe Robinette Grandpop Biden Presidential Library.

There is just something apropos about that middle name, pronounced “Rob-i-net.”

Like “Rob-them-net” of everything.  

Every morning, they roll out a colorful flashing sign on a tow-behind landscaping  trailer and, for 25 cents, you will be admitted to an old garage, with faded pastel-green-and-white paint peeling by Billy Bob (rotting teeth, stained, missing and blackened), and his blonde, graduated from the fourth grade, bimbo girlfriend in her Daisy May short, cut-off, tight, blue jean shorts.    

There, you can stand beside an old blue Corvette, rusting through, with a rotten, coming-off-the-rim tire or two, and look at the Joe Biden papers in water-damaged white-with-red logo cardboard Staples office boxes.  

Most of the other visitors are Chinese nationals.  They are very polite. These papers are classified and he has been collecting them from the “SCIF,”
since he was a United States senator.  

You, too, can savor the mildew smell of old fungus on rotting papers.  

After that, you can go around back and, for a modest fee, buy a pint of Maryland’s finest, or if you are more adventurous, experience a shot of Hunter’s single-wide-trailer-made methamphetamine.  

You will be experiencing/living a part of Old Joe’s legacy to the American people — a heritage to be proud of... all for only 25 cents.