Friday was a free day, no school or social engagements, so I got in my rental car, and ended up driving south on Route 17. I didn't know how far I'd go and I liked keeping my options open. I thought, maybe Southport, maybe Oak Island, maybe Ocean Isle Beach, maybe Sunset Beach. An hour later I was in Myrtle Beach, which was too bad, if only because the sparkling spring day went moody just as I crossed the state line. Instantly I sensed Myrtle Beach is best seen in the sun. See Myrtle Beach in the sun, and you think: alligator farms! miniature golf! pancake houses! exuberance! Myrtle Beach in less-than-perfect weather? Manifestation of human desire out of control, great humming hive of need, need, need. I don't think it's exactly fair to give the Gator Hole Plaza sign the last word (seeing should be more complicated than that; light and dark, belief and disappointment, too easy to say: elegy) so I'll give it over to an old beach cottage, or better yet, the ocean, which is always indifferent, greater than our capacity to project onto it.
4 comments:
So many things going on with the Gator Hole Plaza sign, plus the Statue of Liberty (so not the brazen giant) come to life at its base! One wonders how she--and you--weathered the storm.
I'm almost sure that the Statue of Liberty person was working for an outfit called Liberty Tax: another layer of irony. You'd never know from this picture how hard she was working: jumping to the left, jumping to the right. I think she was amazed that someone actually aimed his phone at her.
Ah, to be "seen" is so invigorating!
In her case, I had a feeling it was be seen or be fired. I never saw anyone work that hard.
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