Sunday, September 27, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Far too many spoke far too soon about my missing Southern accent from my previous post. The next day on our recent beach trip it was a gray, rainy day with the wind a steady gale, and the surf was a angry white froth. Before anyone wonders if Miss Wiggles and I hung around in such conditions all I can write is Hell yes! Pawleys Island in that weather was totally awesome and walking in that wind and rain was about the most exhilarating thing I had done in a good while. Feeling those forces swirl around me it was easy to understand how small we are in the grand scheme of things. Some might not like their tiny position in the universe being so explicitly pointed out but it made me feel like part of something far grander than the trivial and exaggerated activities of naked primates who far too often believe they are the centers of creation.
I started recording hoping I would not sound as stupid in my first experiment my daughter up and starts running for the the inlet at the very end of the island where the much calmer creek meets ocean. In good weather the inlet is about as dangerous as it comes with chaotic currents libel to carry a person out to sea or drag them under. So while looking through the viewfinder seeing my daughter suddenly running to the very edge about freaked me the crap out. I have listened to my words several times and not only did I hear my Southern accent bubble up I again felt the swift terror rip through my guts knowing that had my daughter literally made just a few more steps backward she would fallen into much deeper water. While the camera drifted off the place where my daughter sat in the sand my eyes were totally on her. Had she moved the camera would have been ruined with me dropping it in the sand going after her. Still, I was uncomfortable where she was at but I did not want to startle her and cause the very incident that did not happen.
Despite the near disaster we did stay several more hours talking with a few other brave souls who were enjoying the atypical beachcombing weather. When Miss Wiggles and I did leave our next destination was the beautiful city of Charleston, South Carolina. While I did take a bunch of pictures of that visit I will spare everyone from seeing most of them.. However, since I'm sure no one will want to see anymore of my Spielberg-like endeavors I did not record any video. My next post will be more along my usual fare.
Before anyone freaks out I will freely admit I am more than likely a bad influence on my daughter. Some might be chagrined at the seemly religious altar dedicated to Jimmy Buffett behind my daughter but I assure everyone that I am not indoctrinating her in the partying tenets espoused by the Church of Buffett, orthodox.
This picture was taken at the Charleston Margaritaville where I wasted, as my wife would say, good hard earned money on Jimmy Buffett hats and t-shirts. Someday I hope to bring the rest of my family into the one true faith, freeing them of the drivel and mind-numbingly boring aspects associated with modern suburban life. But seriously back to the main point of this tiny, desperate post, ain't my little pirate cool?
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Just a few seconds of Pawleys Island from yesterday as my daughter, Miss Wiggles, and I stroll the island. Despite predictions all week of bad weather from both seriously crappy weather guys the day was just about perfect. The salty breeze, bright sun, and warm ocean was a welcome change from the daily rat race back home. Sorry about the less than helpful narration, this is my first time trying this and I was just making it up as I go along.
One sad thought I had during my visit is that Pawleys use to be the hang out for people from Georgetown. Being just 15 miles from town it was far easier to break away and spend time there than try to make it all the way to Myrtle Beach, which for many people was viewed as a special treat with its amusement park and other special attractions.
For Georgetown families Pawleys was not only the place just to hang out and relax but to met and socialize with others. I am told that before I was born nightly camp fires on the beach with food and drinks were a regular affair. As parents talked and relaxed around the campfires younger children would run about splashing in the surf and playing in the sand. Teenagers in the late 60's to the mid 70's could often be found sleeping in the sand awaking with the sunrise and paddling out into the ocean trying to catch early morning waves. All this more or less ended after a few bad apples started leaving the beaches a mess with property owners pitching a fit. This got so bad that for a few years in the 80's property owners wanted to close the island off to the public.
During our visit yesterday I talked with many different people but none were from Georgetown. Everyone was from out of state with one family coming as far away as Nebraska. This is not some sudden thought, as far back as the late 90's it had occurred to me that the nature of Pawleys had changed with sightings of locals at least a fairly rare event. While Pawleys Island itself has barely changed, the rebuilding after Hurricane Hugo an exception, the "disappearance" of Georgetown locals throws me for a loop making me feel like some character out of science fiction lost in time.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
The God's honest truth is that 99% of the crap we worry about will be forgotten in hundred years. When all is said in done the best that we can hope to accomplish is that when we pass on we will have made enough of an impact on people and the planet that we will be remembered in a positive light. In that mysterious and scary future no will give a damn about how big your house was, how many cars you owned, and sure as Hell few if any will think twice of the money you left behind.
Those that people will want to remember will be the ones that clothed the needy, saw that children were fed, took care of the sick, and otherwise sought to alleviate the fear and suffering that plagues this world. In the end its just a question of which side we will take. Do we grovel in fears and prejudices scared that every knock at the door is someone out to take our precious material items or do we reach out to others and make an effort to build a place for every man, women, and child on the planet. It isn't an easy quest and primal, self destructive animal fears are rooted deep in our DNA but every once and a while good guys do win. Lets just hope we have time.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
My wife asked me the other day why I had nearly abandoned watching the television evening news and cable political shows that I once eagerly waited for every afternoon nearly like a kid waiting for Christmas morning. Her question took me aback quite a bit and while I fumbled for a coherent verbal answer the visual that stuck in my head was of boat full of people on a river arguing over who would navigate blissfully ignorant of the large and deep waterfall whose edge they were about to go over.
Since the 2008 election things seem to have gone bad and every sign and omen only suggest things are only going to get worse. People are now bringing loaded semiautomatic pistols and assault weapons to political rallies that the president is attending holding signs quoting Thomas Jefferson about the tree of liberty needing to be refreshed; a blatant reference that it takes the blood of patriots and tyrants to do such a thing. A giggly bimbo, nominated by a semi-senile politician for Vice President, can’t give an unrehearsed answer about any serious national issue or policy without squirming away minutes later whining about liberal media unfairness is still in huge circles being considered for a 2012 presidential run. A much needed serious national debate over health insurance reform degenerates regularly over transparent lies about death panels and insane fears that some government bureaucrat will come between a person and his or her doctor. All the while the Marching Morons ignore the fact that corporate insurance bureaucrats do the same thing on a regular basis. Not being a person who holds much stock in pop culture doomsday prophesies I must admit that the approaching 2012 doomsday, spoke of in the Mayan calendar along with other lesser known prophets, is starting to concern me. The human race has never been that smart but stupidity and ill rational fears are multiplying exponentially. So much that lately I find myself looking fondly at a far more simpler time, like the Bush years.
After being criticized more than once for not giving George W. Bush some small credit for doing at least some microscopic and trivial item right there is one thing I will have to give the man credit for. While he was in office his epic incompetence and gargantuan ego raised the bar to new levels on how to write yourself into history for all the wrong reasons. I’d like to have thought that it would have taken decades for others to come close to his achievement but even a foul mouth piece of talk radio trash recently lamented how one man he and many others on the Conservative side favored could have been the Republican’s version of JFK is doing his best to match Bush’s score. That proto-Republican JFK is none other than the governor, and avid Appalachian Trail hiker, of South Carolina.
Now to be fair I have personally cut the good governor of South Carolina a great deal of slack for his recent affair and the resulting aftermath that he found himself in for several reasons which I will not write about. Even though after the 2008 election he more than willingly wrapped himself in the mantle of an “aw shucks” simple, honest, and fiscally responsible statesman’s out to protect the common folk from rascally, traitorous, and morally corrupt liberals. At least I figured, he still shied away from declaring himself an agent of God on Earth while donning a crown of thorns and developing stigmata while tightly clutching the Bible to his breast.
Like any scoundrel seeking some refuge though, seeing his hopes of further power and influence evaporate like some Buenos Aires fog on a hot summer morning he is now desperately grabbing for anything that might at least restore a little of the legacy he hoped to leave.
As part of a fresh round of interviews designed to help save his job, South Carolina governor Mark Sanford suggested a higher power wants him to remain in office, and called his now legendary Appalachian Trail deception "a little white lie". And the embattled Palmetto State Romeo reiterated that he planned to complete his term, which runs through 2010, in order to advance conservative principles -- despite a meeting of GOP lawmakers over the weekend, at which not a single person expressed support for him.
"I feel absolutely committed to the cause, to what God wanted me to do with my life," Sanford told the Washington Times. "I have got this blessing of being engaged in a fight for liberty, which is constantly being threatened."
Sanford sought to minimize his irresponsibility in leaving the state to visit his Argentinian lover while claiming he had gone hiking on the Appalachian Trail, saying he had told his staff a "little white lie."
Sanford also spoke to the Wall Street Journal, declaring (sub. req.) "I have a newfound level of humility, knowing how hard I work and how hard I push is not the ultimate driver of change. Power resides with people."
Still, speaking to Times, he wasn't above a bit of self-pity. Sanford compared himself to Sarah Palin in acknowledging a state ethics probe, requested by the attorney general and legislative leaders, that's looking into his use of state aircraft, his overseas flights and whether he used campaign funds to pay personal expenses. Palin cited the cost of fighting off what she called frivolous ethics complaints as a reason why she quit as Alaska governor in July. Said Sanford: "I think I now know what Sarah may have been feeling."
Sanford also lamented that he's being written off by the state's political community. "What happened is that you take your eye off the ball and have the moral failing that I did," he told the Times, "and suddenly you are off the playing field. Then you realize how blessed you were to have been on that playing field."