Charleston, South Carolina: Act I

The Poogsters were joined by Holmans-South (Bill's family) on this year's version of our HHI vacation.  Due to an overabundance of photos, videos, pictograms, etch-a-sketch renderings and cave drawings from this year's vacation, I will try -- again -- to be brief.

There were lots of visuals to choose from, so I'm going to break this up into three daily blogs.  Act I is the Charleston, SC portion of the trip.  Act II is the Savannah, GA portion of the trip.  Act III is the HHI portion of the trip.

For those of you who appreciate good humor and a second version -- or often times better version -- of the same story, try my brother's blog. 

He was there.  He took more pictures.  He also does landscaping.

For those of you who are still here, let's dispense with the typical BS questions one usually asks to another when asking about a vacation. 

I have no time for subtleties.

First, it was fun.  Beach, pool, dinner.  Repeat five times.  I wore wife beater tee shirts for five straight days and flashed a daily dose of milky white moobs for all of the vacationing upper-crusters on the island.

I could sense their fear.

Second, it was hot.  After all, it's August in South Carolina.  Heat indexes each day topped 105 degrees. 

No rain, except for that unholy event in Charleston, SC on the way in. 

More on that in a moment.

Third, the kids were great.  Considering we encountered ear infections, an outbreak of pink eye, daily sniffles and coughs, a curious potty regression of pooped-in underwear (hey dude, you asked for it and you are going to get it) and the normal daily dose of whining and complaining, the kids took everything in stride and had a blast.

So, you want your Poogie vignette?

Let us commence.

This is Kevin.  Kevin is a big, overworked, lazy, loose-boweled draft horse. 

If Kevin could talk, he would tell you to go F yourself.

Kevin took us on a horse-drawn carriage ride around Charleston, South Carolina for the first part of our three-legged vacation. 

It was hotter than nuclear fission on our trip around Charleston.  Rather than melt on a boat trip to Fort Sumter, we let Kevin -- yes, that was his name -- take us around town. 

Kevin is wonderful in the downtown Charleston traffic.  In fact, if he does not like the way you approach a right hand turn, he will stop in front of your white minivan and work out a fresh batch of "avenue biscuit" in your presence.

Kevin is one of my new heroes. 

What about the kids?

Well, the kids did wonderful considering the 90 minute ride and the 90 degree temps.

I took pictures to prove it.   

Josie wonders why her skin is melting in the heat and why her left eye is beginning to itch.

BTW, Erica is freaking awesome.  Need a distraction for 90 minutes?  No problem, she pulls out lollipops or flavored water or a Roman Candle.  The woman is amazing. 

She saved the kids' day in Charleston.

Anyway, here are more photos from the trip. 

Random old Charleston building photographed to make me look like I was writing a book on architecture.

If I had been alive in 1861 AND in Charleston, I would have hidden in this alley.

Sugar makes kids think less about heat stroke -- until they collapse from heat stroke.

Hey, this would be a great house for my fake book on Southern architecture.

BAR-B-Q!!!!

My quick hits on Charleston, SC:

1.  Charleston is a cool old city, but a tad too close to the commercialization level of a hip lifestyle center. For example, being able to buy Abercrombie & Fitch on the same street -- and possibly from the same building -- where they used to sell human beings is a little weird to me.

Perhaps a little more history and a little less consumption would be a better homage to the city.

I'm just sayin'.

BTW, why does Abercrombie & Fitch smell like a French whorehouse?  And what is that God-awful stench that emanates from every store?  Are they brainwashing us with their cheap cologne? 

It reminds me of what the cool kids used to bathe themselves in before Honey Creek Junior High mixers. 

I used to bathe myself in dork sweat. 

2.  Bessinger's Barbecue.  Solid food.  We were lucky to be staying down the street from Bessinger's in Charleston.  Instead of staying downtown after the carriage ride, we humped it back to Bessinger's.  Smart move.  The Hickory smoke led me like a cartoon character into the dining room.  Good eats!

3.  Slander.  This one goes out to you Lindsey (our tour guide).  When you stop next to a run down old Southern mansion and a tour participant asks you why the house is run down, here are the answers you should choose from in the future:

a) I don't know.
b) The economy has been tough on everyone.
c) I'm sorry.  I can't understand you when you mumble.  Speak louder next time.
d) Another person's trash is another person's treasure.

Never, ever answer the question this way:

"The owner is crazy.  Yeah, she's a little wacky.  You know, a couple cards short in the deck."

You see, your answer is -- or borders on -- what we like to call slander.  Instead of fixing her home up to the standards of the tour participant, that allegedly "crazy" person is going to become an owner of your carriage company when she sues you for slandering her in public.

Again, I'm just sayin'.