Instructions on Dealing With Bad Weather in The South

1) Take out your grocery lists.

2) Cross out everything except MILK & BREAD, apparantly those are the only two items we need during severe weather.

3) Drop everything and run, don't lolly-gag, to your nearest grocery store and purchase those two items before everyone else gets them and you're left without anything to get you through this tough time.

Well....why are you still sitting there reading this...GO, before it's too late!

Good Luck!

Winter In Myrtle Beach

There’s something kind of eerie about coming to the beach in the winter.

This is the first time that I can remember coming in the winter. Myrtle Beach is like a ghost town.

Used to when id come here I’d get a lonely feeling; ghost of beaches past if you will. This time is different. Maybe it’s because there’s not many people here so there’s nothing for me to miss.

This is also the first time I’ve seen Ocean Blvd with the Pavilion missing. Now there are just two empty lots, nothing but sand, grass and a few trees. It’s sad to see such a landmark get taken away.
I am reminded of the Jimmy Buffett song “When the Coast is Clear”.

I have so many memories of this place. Most of them are good, in fact, there aren’t many memories that I can recall that are bad. So much of my teen years were spent here, but if you condense it down to time it’s only about maybe five or six weeks total over a period of five or six years.

Those weeks, though short, were very important to me in those days and I guess they kind of still are. Those trips had some influence on who I am now.

Sometimes I linger on those days and find myself in a sad state because I miss them so much. This trip makes me realize that perhaps I’ve finally accepted the end of those youthful years.

I find also that I can’t recall too many of those old memories, just bits and pieces. The important ones I suppose.

Still, being here in winter is different, almost poetic. Empty memories from an empty beach.

 (just a reflection of sorts)

Richie Kelly
January 23, 2009 5:00 p.m. (rvsd. 4/13/11)
Springmaid Beach Resort
Myrtle Beach, SC

The Beach Chair Chronicles I

Clarity: 

I have this beach chair that I’ve owned for many years. It has a white metal frame, wooden armrests, Copenhagen Blue covering, a large white sailboat on the back and it sits low to the ground. I don’t remember where I got this chair from but I do know that it has never seen the beach.

I used back in my teens and early twenties to sit in my back yard and read books.

It’s not all that comfortable but I always loved it, I guess because of the sailboat.

It has been a very long time since I sat in it again. As I sit here I think about how uncomfortable it really is, but its still a nice chair and is one of the very few items that ive managed to take good care of in my life.

I thought about this chair a month ago when we took a family trip to Pensacola Beach. I almost took it along, but decided not to because I didn’t want to get it dirty or have it rust. Isn’t that funny, I mean, it’s a freakin’ chair! 

So I have recently been re-reading my Jimmy Buffett books, which have re-kindled my infatuation with the ocean, airplanes and sailing. A few minutes ago I was lying in bed trying to catch a midday nap when I started thinking about this chair again. I was considering bringing A Pirate Looks At Fifty out here to read, but instead my mind wandered back in time to my beach days, and that has lead me to dig out this uncomfortable chair and tell you a story that has absolutely nothing to do with the chair.

 Back in high school, every summer for at least five years, I spent the Fourth of July week at Ocean Lakes Campground in Surfside Beach (Myrtle Beach) South Carolina. Now these were some of the greatest times of my life, but I am only going to tell you about one for now.

There was a time in my life when I felt very in-tuned to nature, ocean and the Heavens. I lived and breathed the beach, although I have always lived at least three hours away from the nearest one. I owe all those feelings to Jimmy Buffett’s music, books and a show that used to come on FOX called Key West. They sparked my interests in beaches.

Thanks Mr. Buffett!

Let’s see, where was I…

 When you are a teen certain events in life seem paramount, and I had my share of those events. During that one week a year that I spent at Ocean Lakes I would pick one evening to go the ocean alone and reflect.

It occurred to me back then that the ocean reacts to humans. Let me explain.

Early in the mornings, around sunrise, there usually are very few people on the beach. Walkers, waders, joggers and old people take advantage of this less crowded time.

By-the-way I do not have anything against old people. Moving on…

 At this time of day the ocean seems calm and easy going. Then around noon when hundreds of people are elbow to elbow in lounge chairs and half as many are in the surf swimming, the ocean seems very active. The waves seem larger and livelier.

Then comes evening when all those tourists are back at there air-conditioned beach houses assessing their sunburns and making plans for the Seafood Buffets.

This is yet another time when very few are on the beach. A fisherman is reeling in a small sand shark, a couple lovebirds are walking hand in hand and the “elders” are back.

The ocean once again has settled down to a calm and soothing pace. This is the time that I chose to have my aloneness.

The Sun is going down behind the tall beach houses, a few people are walking slowly along the shore, someone is fishing, lovers are walking hand in hand, and all is right in the world.

I would ease slowly into the water, never going but just about knee deep, and wade for a few moments, watching the minnows dodge my feet. Then I would go to the edge of the dunes plop down in the sand and stare out over the sea. This was my time to reflect on the past year’s ups and downs, and prepare myself for the next year’s ups and downs. I always walked away from that with some clarity and peace.

 It has been quite some time since I have done that. I think it was probably 1995. Almost fifteen years. I sure could use some of that clarity right about now.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Edgefield- My back yard