Son of a beach
As you may have noticed, it was a little quiet on the frontlines the past few days, and for good reason. I took the opportunity to get away for the weekend and head up with some folks to Ocean Isle Beach, North Carolina for a couple of days of golf, fishing and canned beer. Good time had by all, as you can see in a brief running diary of our events ...
THURSDAY, MARCH 9
- A morning full of running errands as I await Ed's arrival around noon. As an aside, Ed and I had exchanged text messages all afternoon Wednesday with simple messages like 'Dude ... I am so fired up.' The poor lad gets there fighting off a cold, but with a prescription in hand. Nothing will deter him.
- Take a few moments to remember Matt, who was unable to get away due to work requirements. There is genuine disappointment on our end. By 12:45 p.m. we're off to snag Trey, who is ready to go with his bags sitting outside in the driveway.
- This would be a good time to mention that I am transporting four guys, their bags, their golf bags and a cooler down to the beach in my 1999 Honda Accord. I'm not a fan of SUVs for the gas mileage reason, but I'm really longing for one as we get to Jason's house to grab his bags and begin to assemble the Rubik's Cube that is my trunk.
- Arrive in Augusta to pick up Jason from a meeting at Augusta Tech and a couple of items at The Fresh Market. The guys also get a brief tour of my hometown in a style similar to 'The Peterman Reality Tour.'
- Around 7:45 p.m. I realize I have absolutely no idea how to get to Ocean Isle and am without a map. This is rather sad since I go to Ocean Isle every year and, sometimes, twice a year. In the midst of driving around aimlessly in the darkness of the South Carolina backroads, the car is startled by the opening of a can. Ed's having a beer.
- At roughly 8:45 p.m., I am quite impressed as I have by sheer random chance completely stumbled onto the proper route as we arrive at the house. By now, however, it's evident we haven't eaten anything so we head out to check out the local restaurants ... and everything is closed ... except for McDonald's. Which means we'll be enjoying our second meal of the day from the Golden Arches. Trey is quiet during the meal with his eyes focused on the counter. I ask what's up, and he replies 'I'm just wondering how long those apple pies have been out.' With that, he's up to get two and returns to discuss how the Arby's turnover is superior in every level to other fast food fruit desserts.
FRIDAY, MARCH 10
- A tee time at 9:24 a.m. at Carolina Shores Golf Club, which is a beautiful course and the only one along the coast which hasn't yet raised its winter rates. Trey and I take on Jason and Ed in a nine-hole low score/nine-hole best ball format. Down by three shots heading into No. 17, Trey and I morph into Tiger Woods and finish par/bogey, but fall by a shot.
- Return to the house around 2 p.m. for lunch, a change of clothes and then head to Barefoot Landing where Ed is enthralled with Alligator Adventure. During the offseason, apparently, Barefoot Landing isn't too terribly popular. Thus ...
- ... we head off to Broadway at the Beach with a singular goal of going to Margaritaville. We make the wait time pass at the cabana-like bar next to the restaurant where Ed is slammed with an $8 bill for one pina colada (which leads to the comment 'Was Jimmy Buffett somewhere in that pina colada?').
- Margaritaville, by the by, is an outstanding restaurant. I'm talking the best peel-and-eat shrimp I have ever had (simmered in beer and lemon juice and covered in Old Bay). The jerk chicken I had for dinner was spectacular as well, as was Ed's conch fritters. Perhaps the highlight, though, is Jason questioning how much the 'Banana Rama' was and, upon hearing $7, slams his hand on the table and says 'I'll take that.' Cost, apparently, not a factor. The house band, for what it's worth, absolutely rocked. They played Peter Frampton's Do You Feel?, complete with voice-changing technology, and did so for about 14 minutes.
- From there we make our way down to Blarney Stone's, which prides itself on being Myrtle Beach's only authentic Irish bar ... but is about as Irish as Antonio Banderas. Nice and low-key when we get there around 9:30 p.m., but when the band goes on 10 a.m. it starts to get crowded and evolve into a more college-age kinda crowd. When the waitress with the gigantic, syringe-filled Jello-shots arrived, we figured that was our cue to go (but not before Ed had paid $8 more for a Red Bull and vodka ... leading to 'what is up with this place!? ... how about I just leave the keys to my house on the table for you folks?').
- About this band ... Eason. The lead singer looks an awful lot like Breckin Meyer, and they might possibly be the worst band in the history of mankind. When you follow a cover of Superstitious with Collective Soul's Shine, that doesn't necessarily mean you have good range.
SATURDAY, MARCH 11
- Ed emerges from his bedroom, showered and ready for the day at 9:30 a.m. He requests a 'little hair of the dog' which is insanely funny, though it really isn't.
- Stop by the Ocean Isle Fishing Center to get ready for a day of leisurely fishing, where we get tips from a 11-year-old who knows a lot more about fishing than we do.
- Surf fishing, where you stand in the ocean up to your knees and cast your line out into the waves, is usually a lot of fun. However, when the water is probably a shade below 60 degrees, it's quite brutal. Plus, with the tide coming in, we all get smacked pretty good by a wave or two. After an hour of this, we retreat to the house.
- At the house, we enjoy the remainder of the afternoon on the floating dock and fishing in the waterway. We also go through a lot of cigars, including Prince Albert's Soft Cherry Vanilla. Sadly, these are a lot better than the more expensive ones we purchased the day before. Still, an excellent afternoon in the sun, catching not really anything, enjoying a few cold beers, some nice cigars and listening to Waylon's son.
- After roughly four hours and a mild sunburn, we come in to shower and head out to grab a bite to eat at The Giggling Mackerel (Russ can appreciate this since we turned the restaurant's name into a million different innuendos on our last trip). I'm given roughly 17 pounds of fried seafood in a basket the size of a tea cup. Ed is estatic, routinely saying 'this is exactly what I had in mind for dinner ... exactly!' He also eats 12 raw oysters, which prompts Trey and I to turn our heads away in disgust.
- Another trip to Margaritaville, though this time primarily so I can by a shirt. We were hoping for a repeat performance of the band from the night earlier, but - I kid you not - we were greeted with Eason. Safe to say, we then determined we were fairly tired and returned home for the night.
SUNDAY, MARCH 12
- Leave by 9:30 a.m. and Ed is genuinely sadden by our departure. Though talk of planning next year's tailgating adventures seem to perk him up.
THURSDAY, MARCH 9
- A morning full of running errands as I await Ed's arrival around noon. As an aside, Ed and I had exchanged text messages all afternoon Wednesday with simple messages like 'Dude ... I am so fired up.' The poor lad gets there fighting off a cold, but with a prescription in hand. Nothing will deter him.
- Take a few moments to remember Matt, who was unable to get away due to work requirements. There is genuine disappointment on our end. By 12:45 p.m. we're off to snag Trey, who is ready to go with his bags sitting outside in the driveway.
- This would be a good time to mention that I am transporting four guys, their bags, their golf bags and a cooler down to the beach in my 1999 Honda Accord. I'm not a fan of SUVs for the gas mileage reason, but I'm really longing for one as we get to Jason's house to grab his bags and begin to assemble the Rubik's Cube that is my trunk.
- Arrive in Augusta to pick up Jason from a meeting at Augusta Tech and a couple of items at The Fresh Market. The guys also get a brief tour of my hometown in a style similar to 'The Peterman Reality Tour.'
- Around 7:45 p.m. I realize I have absolutely no idea how to get to Ocean Isle and am without a map. This is rather sad since I go to Ocean Isle every year and, sometimes, twice a year. In the midst of driving around aimlessly in the darkness of the South Carolina backroads, the car is startled by the opening of a can. Ed's having a beer.
- At roughly 8:45 p.m., I am quite impressed as I have by sheer random chance completely stumbled onto the proper route as we arrive at the house. By now, however, it's evident we haven't eaten anything so we head out to check out the local restaurants ... and everything is closed ... except for McDonald's. Which means we'll be enjoying our second meal of the day from the Golden Arches. Trey is quiet during the meal with his eyes focused on the counter. I ask what's up, and he replies 'I'm just wondering how long those apple pies have been out.' With that, he's up to get two and returns to discuss how the Arby's turnover is superior in every level to other fast food fruit desserts.
FRIDAY, MARCH 10
- A tee time at 9:24 a.m. at Carolina Shores Golf Club, which is a beautiful course and the only one along the coast which hasn't yet raised its winter rates. Trey and I take on Jason and Ed in a nine-hole low score/nine-hole best ball format. Down by three shots heading into No. 17, Trey and I morph into Tiger Woods and finish par/bogey, but fall by a shot.
- Return to the house around 2 p.m. for lunch, a change of clothes and then head to Barefoot Landing where Ed is enthralled with Alligator Adventure. During the offseason, apparently, Barefoot Landing isn't too terribly popular. Thus ...
- ... we head off to Broadway at the Beach with a singular goal of going to Margaritaville. We make the wait time pass at the cabana-like bar next to the restaurant where Ed is slammed with an $8 bill for one pina colada (which leads to the comment 'Was Jimmy Buffett somewhere in that pina colada?').
- Margaritaville, by the by, is an outstanding restaurant. I'm talking the best peel-and-eat shrimp I have ever had (simmered in beer and lemon juice and covered in Old Bay). The jerk chicken I had for dinner was spectacular as well, as was Ed's conch fritters. Perhaps the highlight, though, is Jason questioning how much the 'Banana Rama' was and, upon hearing $7, slams his hand on the table and says 'I'll take that.' Cost, apparently, not a factor. The house band, for what it's worth, absolutely rocked. They played Peter Frampton's Do You Feel?, complete with voice-changing technology, and did so for about 14 minutes.
- From there we make our way down to Blarney Stone's, which prides itself on being Myrtle Beach's only authentic Irish bar ... but is about as Irish as Antonio Banderas. Nice and low-key when we get there around 9:30 p.m., but when the band goes on 10 a.m. it starts to get crowded and evolve into a more college-age kinda crowd. When the waitress with the gigantic, syringe-filled Jello-shots arrived, we figured that was our cue to go (but not before Ed had paid $8 more for a Red Bull and vodka ... leading to 'what is up with this place!? ... how about I just leave the keys to my house on the table for you folks?').
- About this band ... Eason. The lead singer looks an awful lot like Breckin Meyer, and they might possibly be the worst band in the history of mankind. When you follow a cover of Superstitious with Collective Soul's Shine, that doesn't necessarily mean you have good range.
SATURDAY, MARCH 11
- Ed emerges from his bedroom, showered and ready for the day at 9:30 a.m. He requests a 'little hair of the dog' which is insanely funny, though it really isn't.
- Stop by the Ocean Isle Fishing Center to get ready for a day of leisurely fishing, where we get tips from a 11-year-old who knows a lot more about fishing than we do.
- Surf fishing, where you stand in the ocean up to your knees and cast your line out into the waves, is usually a lot of fun. However, when the water is probably a shade below 60 degrees, it's quite brutal. Plus, with the tide coming in, we all get smacked pretty good by a wave or two. After an hour of this, we retreat to the house.
- At the house, we enjoy the remainder of the afternoon on the floating dock and fishing in the waterway. We also go through a lot of cigars, including Prince Albert's Soft Cherry Vanilla. Sadly, these are a lot better than the more expensive ones we purchased the day before. Still, an excellent afternoon in the sun, catching not really anything, enjoying a few cold beers, some nice cigars and listening to Waylon's son.
- After roughly four hours and a mild sunburn, we come in to shower and head out to grab a bite to eat at The Giggling Mackerel (Russ can appreciate this since we turned the restaurant's name into a million different innuendos on our last trip). I'm given roughly 17 pounds of fried seafood in a basket the size of a tea cup. Ed is estatic, routinely saying 'this is exactly what I had in mind for dinner ... exactly!' He also eats 12 raw oysters, which prompts Trey and I to turn our heads away in disgust.
- Another trip to Margaritaville, though this time primarily so I can by a shirt. We were hoping for a repeat performance of the band from the night earlier, but - I kid you not - we were greeted with Eason. Safe to say, we then determined we were fairly tired and returned home for the night.
SUNDAY, MARCH 12
- Leave by 9:30 a.m. and Ed is genuinely sadden by our departure. Though talk of planning next year's tailgating adventures seem to perk him up.
posted by Jmac at 6:45 AM
3 Comments:
True true.
The beaches were very nice this weekend down here in Island City too. Wish I could have hit the links, but that will come in due time. I must make it to the driving range first.
But the beach was open and requires no fee....I begin my workweek sunburnt from crown to foot.
Probably should have ventured to the driving range as well. Where are you along the coast Patrick? Your profile says Glynn County ... is that Brunswick?
St Simons Island.
Living 3 blocks from the Atlantic Ocean does not suck.
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