"Where'd you go on your vacation?"
"Oh, we went to Mercury."
Which is to say it's still hot. 100 degrees where we are, and that's without factoring in the humidity. So, yeah.
Where we are is Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Hokey Town. For the last 60 miles we have been passing through the most gorgeous country, and it's JAMMED with the most incredible hokey billboards for this place; you are instantly transported into a late 1950's station wagon with three kids in the back seat screaming that they want to go to Pirate Adventure or the Mermaid Show, while you and hubby have every intention of seeing that Elvis impersonator they say is so good. While M was muttering about Mercury, I was photographing a sign saying "I Got My Crabs at Dirty Dick's." I got one a ways back advertising Gay Dolphins and Fireworks. Haven't been able to upload pics for a while, but I'll share when I do!
So - we left Charlotte with regret this morning.* I got up and said, "We're going to rent a place here for a month, and you will play old-time music and I will begin to learn bones, bodhran (not sure how that's spelled but I now know it's pronounced boron, and rhymes with moron), dulcimer and clogging." M agreed, even though it's hotter than hell AND every mosquito in Carolina has him on GPS. He has been chewed alive - must have a hotter skin temperature than mine. In revenge for his usual teasing, I inspected my calf this morning and said in a Southern accent, "Ohh dear, I have gotten my SECOND mosquito bite." As the old story goes, I don't have to be faster than the bear...
We spent several days in Charolotte, immersed in the most beautiful countryside and music; I'll leave my poor descended-upon cousins their privacy, but they were incredibly generous with their homes, time, talents. I know a science teacher who is REALLY going to enjoy the film footage and stills I took along the way. We also checked out the Charlotte Light Rail System, were taken to an art gallery for a photography exhibit, handled and played some beautiful mandolins and bodhrans, swam (okay, floated on noodles, so sue me) in a warm lake, talked history, drank sweet tea (insider discovery - you order half-and-half, and they mix plain tea with sweet tea so it's not so syrupy and it's really good!) Overall, a wonderful visit, and for someone like me without much family it's novel and fun to discuss shared relatives and family past.
And now we are back on the road, running for the coast (Charleston, I think) and then on to New Orleans, truck willing. Dapple is still a little overfueled and seems to be firing on 7/8. We had new (used) tires put o in Charlotte ("your lady can sit by the fan,") and one seemed to have a slow leak, so I was back sitting at the bottom of a loading dock in a beat-up computer chair in front of a big fan, playing pennywhistle and staying cool while they tried to find the leak. Dapple's other quirk at the moment is a capricious passenger door lock, so sometimes she won't let me out, and sometimes she won't let me in, and sometimes there's no problem at all. It's a mood thing, and we live with it - feeling muley this morning, Dapple? I'll just climb out the driver's seat. It's very low-rent and amusing. Like sweating, I am getting good at it.
So, impressions of the South: air like hot soup. lush greenery. thinking it's cool lovely lush greenery and then I remember we have the AC on in the truck. ubiquitous: churches, Bojangles chicken. hand-painted signage. brick buildings. kudzu sculptures. entire tree branches swathed in sci-fi spiderwebs that could easily catch birds. my desire never to meet the architects. the incredible sudden perfume - myrtle? honeysuckle? magnolia? in the car as we go down the highway. paper fans. Jesus Is The Light. ma'am. if you meet someone's eyes. you greet them and ask how they are. road names - bobo newson highway, top drawer st., bubba lane. accents sometimes so thick i literally have no idea what someone just said.
Tire guy to M: "You thak the razzle naggit ah hoonsen rah baddit?"
M: "Sure, that's fine."
He actually does understand them. Comes from driving a variety of nationalities. But thick Carolinan is beyond me.
I wanted to know HOW HOT IT REALLY WAS, just the way M counts his mosquito bites, so when I went in the gas station convenience store I asked the clerk.
"Do you know how hot it is here?"
"I surely do. That's why I'm stayin' in HERE."
Pictures later, if I can do it.
* For some reason, I am compelled to add that the futon we slept on last night was bought many years ago as an emergency accomodation for Peggy Seeger. "We can't put her on the FLOOR!" So I've now slept in the same bed as Peggy Seeger. Why does that make me so happy?
And now I also have to add: while I was writing this, M pulled off the road and drove down to the beach so I could dip my toes in the Atlantic. We've now gone coast-to-coast, the Road Warrior and I, in Dapple the Brave. Did you think we'd make it? Well, we did!
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| lunch in the Watermelon Capitol of SC |
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| We can afford this! |
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| Well, who knew? |
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| banjo in the studio |
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| I love feral houses. |
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