Category: Travel

SkyWheel In The Sky Keeps On Turning

view of Myrtle Beach from Sky Wheel

As stated in yesterday’s post, we ponied up the money to ride the famed SkyWheel in Myrtle Beach last week. At 187 feet tall, it’s the second-tallest extant (what is extant?) ferris wheel in the U.S. of A., after, OF COURSE, Texas. We stood in line in the early afternoon, when the wait was only about ten minutes, the time that it takes for the 42 “gondolas” (they don’t look like gondolas) to make three revolutions.

At night, it is lit with over a million LED lights, but it also costs more at night. I took this pic on the eve that we arrived. The multicolored prongs you see held some sort of bungee jumping device, from which one could hear shrill screams.

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Not being a fan of heights, I was none too eager to board the spinning vessel. But when in Rome, as they say. I couldn’t not ride it; we were right there, after all. I sat quite still on my bench, searching for non-existent handles. To my right and left was glass. Just glass. Soon the parking lot became smaller.

Myrtle Beach Day IV 015To the north, I watched the beach extend, tallying up the price of our vacation (about three month’s salary, the price of a wedding ring), and multiplying that by every figure I saw on the coastline. Myrtle Beach was raking it in.

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To the south, the sand and surf continued. And by the way, the price to “rent” one of the beach chairs? $32. Seriously. That did not include an umbrella.

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A plane flew by, advertising one of the many attractions.

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Soon we were eye to eye with the skyscrapers.

Myrtle Beach Day IV 010By that third revolution, I felt fairly comfortable in my bench, nearly certain we would not topple out over the side and splatter on to the pavement. When we finally touched down to earth again, we were forced to exit through the gift shop, where teens stood with fully-developed pictures of you and your family (taken at a green screen just prior to the ride). A poorly-PhotoShopped memento of our bodies in front of the SkyWheel, for only $25. Everyone around us declined the offer, and the teens chunked the prints into the trash. If they would just offer them for $10, they could sell more and make less litter. Too bad I’m not in charge.

 

Myrtle Memories

Myrtle Beach Day I 025As some of you may have noticed, I’ve been MIA for a week now. My family and I took some time to visit Myrtle Beach (our first trip to the East Coast) and our first flight together.

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We stuffed ourselves on insanely high-priced meals (burgers run about $17), visited Broadway on the Beach, as well as The Boardwalk, frolicked in the waves, and took a spin on the Sky Wheel.

Myrtle Beach Day I 023Now that I am home, belly full of Tex-Mex food, I have loads of laundry to do–and lots of catching up here on WordPress! Glad to be back.

 

Vulcanizers In The Motor Age, Part I

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I spent last night, flipping through a 1919 Motor Age, browning and brittling as it nears the century mark. I wish I could post all 150 pages, as interesting as they are, but of course, you would fall asleep by page 20. As I am no Kerbey the Riveter, I know nothing about machines or cars in general, so most of these words my mouth had never spoken. Vulcanizers, carborundum valves, aloxite wheels?

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I don’t know what a “jobber” is, but the magazine is filled with the term. And who’s this Dutch girl?

Motor Age 1919Between the Velie Six and the Cleveland Six, I hadn’t heard of half the automobile manufacturers. See how many of these you recognize.

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Here’s the Cleveland Six. Ain’t she a beaut?

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Check out this handy luggage carrier. So convenient!

Motor Age1919008With “The War” having ended only the year prior, life was getting better and better.

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Stay tuned for Part II, as we discover more of the 95-yr-old Motor Age.

I Still Hear Your Seawaves Crashing

Pastel-painted condos in coastal towns make for some solace when the winter sky is overcast and the weather is dreary. Galveston is no exception.

Galveston 030You can rent a beach house, condo, or hotel room for your stay. Some are swanky and grand, like this one.

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But I imagine the bedspread is still unwashed, and the sheets are covered with pubic hair and glitter, as I have found in even the most expensive of hotels. Which is why I HATE hotels. And motels? Eek. Motels are simply something you accrue in Monopoly so that you can later buy hotels. Although I guess if you are a criminal on the lam, then motels are just your style. Or perhaps this leaning tower of Victorian latticework.

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Galveston is home to the Pleasure Pier, which has never been pleasurable for us, as it is only open on weekends, and we cannot afford weekend rates anywhere but our own home. Nonetheless, it is a colorful sight against the bleak backdrop of a sunless sky. (Honestly, is this what London feels like? Seattle? Lack of sunlight is a serious buzzkill.)

Galveston 035It is a quirky city, decorated in green, gold, and purple in anticipation of Mardi Gras.

Galveston 045So quirky that the dentist is housed adjacent to the Ben & Jerry’s. Take note: Ron Burgundy’s Scotchy Scotch was there.

Galveston 047So quirky that this home showcased a plant-haired tiki idol, lording over all of Crystal Beach.

Galveston 147And when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds for all of eleven minutes…

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…it made for a lovely little shot of Americana.

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I Still Hear Your Seawinds Blowing

Galveston 145I’ve been away from WordPress for several days, visiting Galveston. Yes, the very same one about which Glen Campbell sang. February is probably not the choicest month for much of anything, and visiting the coast is no exception. It was miserably cold (not Yankee minus-temperature cold), rainy, and so windy that it shook the walls of the rental condo all night long. I could easily see how being caught in a hurricane would be terrifying. We’ve visited Galveston before, but this time we were witness to much more dilapidation. Beach towns will always be in various stages of construction, as is the nature of weatherworn homes, but it was particulary disheartening to see homes that surely once knew glory, left to slowly decay.

Galveston 041Galveston already has a history of ghosts, but with the constant fog and drizzle surrounding Victorian-era houses, it was even more apparent.

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Bright colors can’t mask the ramshackle state of this home.

Galveston 042Some homes were probably not much to begin with.

Galveston Charles Camera 047But among the poverty, were words of hope.

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Autumn in the Highland Lakes

Sans Souci 085A month ago we booked a lakeside rental along the Highland Lakes, not knowing if the week of Thanksgiving would be a balmy 90 degrees as in days of yore, or a frosty 29 degrees, as in other days of yore. One never knows in Texas. As the preschool teachers are fond of saying, “You get what you get, and you don’t get upset.” A nice sentiment, but not quite as catchy as, “Zip it, lock it, and put it in your pocket.”

As it turns out, what we got when we arrived two days ago was not sunny and hot; but what Winnie the Pooh might term a very blustery day indeed, with temps near freezing, and drizzle to boot. However, the foliage was stunning, as far as dying Texas leaves can be, so were not entirely disappointed by the dreariness of the weather.

And although we did not dare to jump into the lake, we did get to glimpse it as we drove along the meandering hills.

Always take your cameras, dear readers. We are older today than yesterday, and our memories fade as we go.

In My Country, Too, We Like Its Speed

Colliers006I like the vagueness of the token foreigner’s words, “my country” because that could mean anything. Perhaps he is a successful businessman, since he is well-dressed and has access to slick hair creams. I like his grand gesture as well. It’s like he’s welcoming Barbara Bush to Fantasy Island.

countryPerhaps some of you are programmed to be on the lookout for racism, so you can’t possibly enjoy this. Let’s find an opportunity to be offended; won’t that be fun? But break down his words; there isn’t anything pejorative there. He’s not represented in a demeaning way.  He’s not dressed in rags or carrying a water vessel on his head–or a towel–or a sombrero. He’s simply declaring that all countries can appreciate the merits of Convair. And if it still existed, perhaps I could, too.