Just wanted to let my faithful readers know that I have a new store for my drone photographs. I’d like to sell one photograph and go on from there. But we are going to start with trying to sell one. Thank you as usual for following this collection of garbage, I really do appreciate it. Click the link! (at least)
I shot this aboard my buddy’s boat in Charleston, SC using my Mavic Pro Drone. Enjoy and Merry Christmas
I’ve been listening to an incredible podcast produced by Dan Carlin called “Hardcore History,” where Dan (who doesn’t claim to be an historian, but otherwise an “admirer of history”) takes subjects and fleshes them out for hours. I’m currently listening to “Kings of Kings part 2” about a few of the leaders of the Persian Empire. He basically produces entire books on tape in each series, as they are 5-6 hours long. If you like history, definitely check this podcast out.
I bring this up because lately I’ve been ruminating about a subject that was mentioned on the podcast. Carlin was explaining how the ancients would use a navy to support anarmy moving along a coast by protecting supplies on ships and feeding the army when required. Now, I don’t know the nature of the ships, whether they were sailboats or rowboats, but in the interest of this blog post, let’s pretend they were sailboats. See, I’ve been fighting a war with sailboats in my head for a few months now. Sailboats were once essential to humanity but are now only enjoyed by a few nincompoops who don’t mind making us sit in traffic at the foot of a drawbridge while they “sail” under it. Continue reading
When I was a kid, I loved anything that you could fly. I remember getting these planes made out of Styrofoam that were about five feet long and could fly when you threw them. On the package, there were pictures of people doing amazing tricks with these toys. Not appearing on the package was the fact that you threw them once, they flew beautifully and then crashed into the ground or a tree and the wing would break and that was it. I bet I owned ten of them and broke every one. Continue reading
I have to make it known that I will no longer be attending dinners that include nine or more people. I can’t take it anymore. This weekend, I went to a birthday party that included 30 people for dinner. Well, I didn’t eat dinner with all of those people. I ate with about six of them. The rest of them were so far down the table that we weren’t together. I said hello and it ended there. The only thing we had in common at this dinner is that we were at the same table and couldn’t eat for 2.5 hours because there were 30 people to serve. Enough. No more. My anxiety can’t take it. Continue reading
I don’t dance in public often. Except for being filled with a rare combination of alcohol and a well-stacked wedding buffet, I can’t say I dance in public ever. Alone in my car or the shower is a different story. There, should the mood strike, I’m pretty good on the fake bass guitar and lead vocals. Sorry you had to see that.
Anyway, last night I went to see a little ole band from Texas called ZZ Top in a theater in downtown Charleston. It was fantastic. Three guys don’t make it for forty plus years in the music business being terrible. The concert was great and the Top delivered like they always do. The people I was sitting around, however, did not with a capital “Dammit.” Continue reading
I’ve lived in Charleston, South Carolina for almost 12 years. Being one of the oldest cities in the US, it has experienced many changes and boom times. But I doubt it’s ever experienced the influx of tourists and attention that it has in the last decade. When I could still stomach watching “Chopped” on the Food Network, one year a whole season of that show seemed to feature a different chef from Charleston on every episode. By the end of that season I think the only people left off Chopped was the street meat purveyors and a Subway sandwich tech from the King Street location.
I think you get the point. Charleston exposure is nearing overkill. If there were a magazine for dogs they’d be ranking the “Top Ten Places in Charleston to take a Crap.” I’m glad that my city is popular and that people are willing to come here and spend their money. I really am. The traffic is decidedly more horrible, but progress comes with a price.
Being a “local” in a popular tourist destination puts you in a precarious position. On the one hand, you want to share your home and what you love about it with people who are interested. On the other, you want to be able to go to your favorite joints without waiting in line behind giant men in tank tops who saw the place on Rachel Ray.
I pretended to be a tourist for a day to see what it was like. I guess you could call this a “Local acting like a tourist’s guide to Charleston.” Continue reading