Random Beach Bloggage

Well, I'm back home now. We stayed in a very nice beachfront motel, run by a national chain. We had a full kitchen, oceanfront view, swimming pools, jacuzzi, and a lazy river ride. It was quite a step up from last year. Then, I outsmarted myself bidding blind on Priceline. I tried to keep my bid low by starting in one region of the beach and spreading out as each lowball bid was rejected. I wound up in a golf motel overlooking a marina on a river about a mile inland, with a pool but nothing else for kids. We had to pack up the wagon, drive to the beach and park in the public lots, trek to the public restroom, and leave too soon each day. This time, I just picked a good facility in a good location, called them up, and dickered their price down by about twenty dollars.

Disclosure: The dickering bit was my wife's idea. I hate bargaining; I'm one of those types who'll pay list price in exchange for avoiding personal friction. So thanks to her, through gritted teeth, for putting some stiffening in my spine. I saved about eighty bucks.

At the beach, I fell into my longtime habit of people watching. Things have changed a lot since I was a kid, coming to the same beaches. There are many more beachfront towers, for one thing, and not so many yellow brick motels as formerly. Back then, legal segregation had ceased, but there was still self-segregation by choice. Now, the Grand Strand is as diverse as my home metro area of Atlanta. In fact, any Atlantans reading this will understand when I say that my motel was Buford-Highway-By-The-Sea. In case you're wondering, I think it's a wonderful sign of progress. (But, if you've been reading me for a while, shame on you for wondering!)

Tattoos and pierced navels are thoroughly mainstream now, it seems. I was hard pressed to find a young man without a barbed wire bicep decoration, or some kind of pointy ninja throwing star design. Nor did I notice many girls beyond their twenties without a pseudo-Celtic tramp stamp on the small of their back (although many of these were obviously rub-on decals). Tattoos, snot rings, and pierced navels first burst into popular consciousness through the outrageous antics of Dennis Rodman. Now, with every male advertising his testosterone and every female advertising her availability this way, I think tattoos and piercings are now about edgy as; well, as edgy as Dennis Rodman.

This is the final year for the venerable Myrtle Beach Pavilion. There's no firm word on what's going to take its place when it's torn down.