I get to work ten minutes early and swipe my card at the time clock. I’m supposed to wait until my shift begins to clock-in but I’m slowly bilking this place. After punching in, I have to scan the parking lot to see if Doc is playing today. Most of the people who play golf here wouldn’t leave a tip at a circumcision, except for Doc. Continue reading “A Twenty-Dollar Story”
There are two types of people at the Sunshine Home for the Elderly. Those well enough to ride the activities bus and those that are not. The ones that are not well enough to leave are done. Finished. It is all over for them. The ones that can still participate in the daily excursions have some hope left.
They call themselves “The Rolling Oldies” and they are an organized band of thieves. They love going to the Zoo and to the Indian Casino, but the only thing you can steal from those places are trinkets in the gift shop. A refrigerator magnet or novelty pen will do if you have to scratch an itch, but the Rolling Oldies are into stealing the good stuff. Stuff like brand name stool softener and Metamucil are valued items. Liquor and lube are also popular. If it is expensive, name-brand and helps you use the toilet, it is better than money. They steal reader glasses by the shipment. If you could pay for prescriptions with stolen readers, the Rolling Oldies would be like the geriatric version of El Chapo. Continue reading “The Rolling Oldies”
Beep, beep, beep. They are building a 300-unit apartment complex outside my apartment window. Every piece of heavy equipment must beep. In the 90’s, they only used to beep when they went backwards. But now, some of them beep when they go backwards and forwards, side to side. Continue reading “Beep”
On a recent trip out of Charleston, I noticed a celebrity on my flight to Atlanta. None other than TV’s Jack Hanna was standing with his wife, waiting for his boarding zone to be called. I didn’t bother him. I like the man and I appreciate his work, but he’s not exactly the Crocodile Hunter. The odd thing about the encounter was that “Premium” was already boarding and I was next in “Sky” (because I foolishly paid more for the extra leg room and the free banana) and Jack and his wife weren’t in my boarding group. They were in coach with all the other people who weren’t international TV personalities or frequent Late Show with David Letterman guests. Continue reading “Jack Hanna Flies Coach”
Charleston, South Carolina used to have a tourist season. Tourism would begin to ramp up during the weekend of “SEWE,” which stand for the “South Eastern Wildlife Expo,” and continued until Thanksgiving. But after major travel publications like Conde Nast and Travel+Leisure named Charleston the “Number 1 tourist destination in the world” (good lawd, y’all) there is no longer a tourist “season” in Charleston; tourist flock here year round.
I am not one of these “poo-poo the tourists” locals. In fact, I’m not even counted as a “local” by the poo-poo people. Your family has to have lived in Charleston for 2-3 hundred years before you’ll be welcomed at any Battery-addressed soiree without at least one disapproving glare as you walk through the door. I’ve lived in Charleston for 15 years, but in the eyes of the Blue-Bloods, I’m closer to a tourist than a resident. Which is why I believe I am most qualified to offer this list to tourists because, basically, I am one who simply hasn’t left since 2005.
There are hundreds of “Charleston Tourist Guides” on the internet. A few years ago, I wrote a piece called the “Ten Things I Hate about Charleston.” Not my finest work as it was an attempt to be different in the realm of Charleston lists, but worth a look if you’re interested. What I didn’t find on the internet was something that prepared you for being a tourist in Charleston. So instead of telling you what to do and where to go (I’ll do some of that), hopefully this piece will prepare you for being a tourist in Charleston and give you an idea what to expect while you’re here. Continue reading “Charleston Tourist Season”
Hop T. Hare loves baloney, but all he was allowed to eat was carrots. Hop was so sick of carrots. Once, he ate so many carrots, he turned orange.
One day, Hop was playing in a yard and he saw an open window. Normally, Rabbits don’t sneak into Human houses, but Hop had refused to eat his breakfast carrots this morning and he was starving. Hop, against all his Rabbit judgement, jumped through the window and went to the kitchen. Continue reading “Don’t Hate Carrots”
Today, I saw a man carrying an onion. I was heading north on Highway 17 and he was walking along Houston Northcutt boulevard in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina. I was first at the red light (yes!) and he crossed in front of me, walking his red bicycle. His onion was yellow. He was carrying it like carrying an onion was a normal act. The onion was in his right hand; throwable, if he wanted. Continue reading “The Man with the Onion”