South Carolina in the seventies sold fireworks at roadside stands, a huge business, all year round.
To a Canadian, that didn't make sense. Fireworks were for July 1st, Dominion Day, once a year.
South Carolina advertised Myrtle Beach on the Atlantic Ocean as a vacation destination for the week around Easter, when kids were out of school and springtime made people restless to get out there and have some fun.
Myrtle Beach was not exactly warm, but 65 degrees F was better than 50 degrees F, and if you packed the kids into the family car before dawn, and drove like crazy, nonstop all day, you could touch your bare toes down onto the sand that very night. Or get a brain and do it in two easy days.
Leaving the freeway of colorful firework stands and the first palm tree I had ever seen for real, the car headed southeast toward the beach. That stretch of road seemed to take longer than the entire trip, because I had seen a real, live palm tree, as short and scruffy as it may have been, and therefore the beach had to be a mere stone's throw away, in my mind.
There's nothing like the atmosphere of a beach on the ocean or the Gulf of Mexico. If you like saltwater, you're hooked.
Back then, motels were few and small, the amusement strip had only a few rides and games, but was open every night, lit up like a handful of those firecrackers for sale back on the freeway.
There were a few shops along sandy lanes, and nice people, who loved their little village-town, worked behind the counters or owned the merchandise.
A tiny post office sold stamps and didn't mind at all the sand tracked in on people's sandals.
The whole place had a vacation atmosphere. You could wander the streets in peace, and check out all the different kinds of palm trees that grew beside houses and cars.
Going to Myrtle Beach was my first taste of American pie, and I hated to leave without knowing I'd be back. So we made a vow to go again the next year, and we did.
But after that, we went even further south, all the way to Florida, and that opened up a whole new world to me.
I got hooked on the incredible state of Florida, as a vacationer.
Living year-round here is a different story altogether. It's probably why so many people come and go, if they weren't born here.
If you don't have the attitude of the happy vacationer who goes back home after awhile, the place loses its luster after a few years.
To some people. A lot of people, actually.
To a Canadian, that didn't make sense. Fireworks were for July 1st, Dominion Day, once a year.
South Carolina advertised Myrtle Beach on the Atlantic Ocean as a vacation destination for the week around Easter, when kids were out of school and springtime made people restless to get out there and have some fun.
Myrtle Beach was not exactly warm, but 65 degrees F was better than 50 degrees F, and if you packed the kids into the family car before dawn, and drove like crazy, nonstop all day, you could touch your bare toes down onto the sand that very night. Or get a brain and do it in two easy days.
Leaving the freeway of colorful firework stands and the first palm tree I had ever seen for real, the car headed southeast toward the beach. That stretch of road seemed to take longer than the entire trip, because I had seen a real, live palm tree, as short and scruffy as it may have been, and therefore the beach had to be a mere stone's throw away, in my mind.
There's nothing like the atmosphere of a beach on the ocean or the Gulf of Mexico. If you like saltwater, you're hooked.
Back then, motels were few and small, the amusement strip had only a few rides and games, but was open every night, lit up like a handful of those firecrackers for sale back on the freeway.
There were a few shops along sandy lanes, and nice people, who loved their little village-town, worked behind the counters or owned the merchandise.
A tiny post office sold stamps and didn't mind at all the sand tracked in on people's sandals.
The whole place had a vacation atmosphere. You could wander the streets in peace, and check out all the different kinds of palm trees that grew beside houses and cars.
Going to Myrtle Beach was my first taste of American pie, and I hated to leave without knowing I'd be back. So we made a vow to go again the next year, and we did.
But after that, we went even further south, all the way to Florida, and that opened up a whole new world to me.
I got hooked on the incredible state of Florida, as a vacationer.
Living year-round here is a different story altogether. It's probably why so many people come and go, if they weren't born here.
If you don't have the attitude of the happy vacationer who goes back home after awhile, the place loses its luster after a few years.
To some people. A lot of people, actually.
Wow, South Caronlina :D I really wish I'd go more deeper into the USA! It sounds like so much fun.
ReplyDeleteI went to Florida for a week, and I thought it was beautiful, but I really didn't want to live there. My mom agreed. My little cousins did not (because they thought Disnerworld was so awesome, they wanted to live there so badly). I thought it was too big for me.