Armadillo

These guys are migrating up from Texas and Mexico, rooting their way into everyones yard, taking over. This guy was on a barrier island, rooting, doing his thing without regard for his locale. He'd be doing the same thing anywhere.

They carry their own armor and appear cleaner than their greasy predecessors: meet the new possum, Opossum 2.0. The old joke is "possum on the half shell".

Was hard to resist touching this one, wanted to feel the armor and see what he was all about. The ears especially, like little flowers.
They're practically blind, he walked right up to the toe of my boot, but when he realized I wasn't a tree stump he hopped away in a bunny / antelope escape trot. This is the only photo that was not blurry, they never stop moving their heads, always rooting and sniffing.
Odd that he didn't know my boot from a tree stump, didn't he notice my all-day boot smell? Maybe I was camouflaged by a combo of low tide, salt, and horse biscuits.
Get used to them, they're making themselves right at home.

Myers BBQ

"Looks like home, Tastes like home"

note the long shadows of a January afternoon

The 1st stop in the 3rd year of the Bonton Barbeque Tour of America!
That's right, 3rd year - 2004, 2005, 2006.
Q: . . . and what have You done with your life in the past 3 years?
A: Well, I went to as many BBQ places as I could and photoblogged them for the betterment of mankind. And for posterity, uh, for my legacy, you know . . . 9 states and 2 coasts so far".

We knew this place was good when we pulled into the parking lot behind a powerline truck, one of those big rigs with a bucket. They got to park anywhere they wanted.

There was a split wood pile on the side of the house so we inspected the premises before going inside. A smoke house is in the back with a big pile of wood waiting to be split after school by the son. This place really is a former residential dwelling, thus the slogan "looks like home, etc". Any Q joint you see with a tin roofed smoke house in back, well, just go in and hand over your money for a buffet.
Myers specializes in hickory and oak pit cooked BBQ & country cooking. My stomach is growling with fond memories.

The clientele was lunchtime landscaping crew, lineman, a table of "who knows what they do during the day", and one guy with his female better half. They were making plans, I think it was a honey-do list from her to him. He was going along with anything she said. Maybe she let him have some Q so she could get her way with him. Thank goodness for at least one female in the place, she classed up the joint with her ambition and all that.

Across the street is a large corporate building with a security gate. Whatever they do in there, I'm sure the cubicle dwellers daydream about opening a BBQ place like this one, right off the highway.
They have an all you can eat deal but not an actual buffet, you return to the front for a refill and they lay it on you with a smile. The Q was so good that I forgot about getting some Smoked Chicken! That's Smoked chicken, not BBQ chicken. Smoked chicken - imagine how tender and tasty that must be. Smoked Turkey is so good, wish I'd had some smoked chicken. . Right now, missing the smoked chicken feels like a greater loss than it did at the time, when I was full-up on 2 plates of Q. My stomach is growling (again).

When I realized I was too full to have the smoked chicken I began a sit down strike. The plan was to digest enough to try a sample of the smoked chicken. Just a mere morsel, a wafer thin slice. We hung out.
Their bulletin board includes many local celebrities, like some blues musicians that look like they've had a fairly easy life. After the lunch rush I was the only person in the place. The radio played Elvis singing "Kentucky Rain". Poor Elvis, he sings:
"I don't know why you've gone,
what you're running to, or from,
all I know is I want to take you home".
He rhymes "gone", "home", and "from" using an "uh" sound.
Everybody now give me an Elvis Uh-uh-Huh!
Uh-uh-Huh!

There wasn't much to talk about with the lady that was sweeping up and I think I made her self-conscious when I took a flash photo. She likes Elvis but didn't want to talk about The King just now, she was sweeping. When I mentioned that today, January 8th, is the Birthday of Elvis she seemed to have had enough, as if it weren't true.
Well it is true each and every year on January 8th!
So I got a gallon of tea ($4) to-go and left.

God as my witness, I shall return soon and I'll put a hurting on that smoked chicken, we're even planning on calling ahead to make sure they put a few yard birds on just for me.

Myers BBQ Restaurant and Catering
Gerald & Carolyn Myers, Owners
10324 Wilson Blvd. at I-77 & Hwy 21 N (Exit 24)
Blythewood, SC 29016
Hours Mon - Sat 11 - 9pm

Port-o-Desk

And so begins another year on the road.
we gots da wi-fi notebook, a digicam, old school yellow pages, dead tree folio, and an MP3 enabled jambox with which to spread some joyous grooves -
all on a standup desk-like platform
with a 4 wheel drive and we actually lock the hubs!
logon, logoff!
bonton roulement en 2006

January 1st Polar Bear Swim

Sullivans Island, SC. 1/1/06
A pleasant day, about 55 degrees, sunny with little wind.
People pay a small amount to a charity to swim together in the Atlantic on New Years day. There was a large turn out due to the nice weather.

The scene changed post-swim, the sun went behind clouds and it got chilly.
It is a polar bear swim but there was no ice involved except in some coolers on the beach. The Wisconsin or Alaska Polar bears would look down their cold noses but hey, we don't control the weather, snowbirds.

Saw something new to me: some sort of flying Dutchman contraption.
Take an inflatable boat, strap on an ultralite hang-glider-airplane with a two stroke engine and large fan blade for a propeller and risk your life 200 feet above the land and sea. Seats one or two, depending on weight and amount of sense. I imagine you must keep seated and hang on!
There were several buzzing around in the air, really added to the feeling of being in a fun scene.
Reminded me of Black Rock Desert during Burning Man, where you say to yourself "This sure is fun. I might die. Let's do it again!"