Corporate welfare

Ukrops in Roanoke is closing.

The grocery chain, which I have visited approximately five times, was nice and all but since I did not shop it frequently (I live too far away), I had trouble finding the deals. To be honest, I stopped in there for one single item that I could not find elsewhere, and it is something I can live without.

What most folks don't know, since apparently few people read an article all the way through anymore, if they read it at all, is that the City of Roanoke gave the property developer many incentives to build Ivy Market (the name of the development) on this location. So let me remind you.

The deals cut for Ukrops/Ivy Market, a $20 million project, are thus (from The Roanoke Times archives):

$9 million package. "The agreement will allow Painter's development company, IMD Investment Group, to get a maximum $600,000 city grant annually for 15 years. The grants, or rebates, are to be based on the amount of revenue Ivy Market produces annually. The program will be administered through the city's Industrial Development Authority. None of the money will be paid to the developer upfront." - The Roanoke Times, December 19, 2004

According to this article, the developer told the city the project would bring in $1.4 million in annual tax revenue. That meant the city would still get $800,000 after it gave the developer $600,000. But the city's own analysis indicated the amounts actually would be more like $900,000. They went ahead with the deal anyway.

In the same article, which reviews emails, note this quote. "The chances of Ukrop's leaving during the next 15 years are extremely small," [Councilman Brian]Wishneff wrote. He is not a councilman anymore.

I call this largess with taxpayer money corporate welfare. It means the city is giving the developer back money because he decided to operate there. The city hopes to gain financially from their investment over time.

I also call it bullshit. If someone wants to develop something in a community, let them come, provided they meet the zoning, but why pay them? They take the taxpayer dollars and run. Botetourt County has offered incentives many times to businesses, and now we have big empty buildings. Was it really to the citizenry's advantage to make concessions, to offer tax breaks or money up front? Did the jobs stay forever? Did they even last 10 years?

Another instance of corporate welfare is federal agricultural subsidies. This is supposed to help small farmers, you know. We are small farmers. Do you know how much money we receive from the federal government?

ZERO. Not one single penny. Nada, nothing, zippo.

And every other small farmer I know, with the exception of a couple of local dairies, receives nothing, too. Guess who does get all of those millions? ConAgra, DuPont, Cargill, all of the big companies. The companies that don't need the money just to eat and be able to watch cable.

Walmart also receives federal dollars. As of 2004, the $256 billion company had received over $1 billion in state and local government subsidies. In the 1990s it received over $5 million from Roanoke City for its Valley View store. (The Roanoke Times, Dec. 19, 2004). No wonder it wants to put in more Walmarts here. Follow the money.

Here are some of Roanoke's other corporate welfare projects, from the same article:

1994 - First Union, $500,000, 200 new jobs
Early 1990s - Wal-Mart - $5 million for the Valley View store
Mid-1990s - Roanoke Electric Steel, $260,000 for a $14 million investment
1997 - Maple Leaf Bakery, $757,324 for a $20 million investment
1997 - First Citizens Bank, $25,000, 30 new jobs
1999 - Johnson Johnson Spectacle Lens Group, $9.17 million, $125 million investment
2000 - Precision Technology USA, $80,000 $2.2 million investment; 112 new jobs
2001 - Foot Levelers, $34,790, $3.3 million investment
2001 - The Roanoke Times, $600,100, $25 million minimum investment
2002 - Advance Auto, $1.13 million, $6.7 million investment; 168 new jobs
2003 - SEMCO, $150,000, $4 million minimum investment
2003 - Boxley Materials Co., $154,000, $2.5 million investment; 9 new jobs
2004 - Member One, $66,000, $6 million investment

And then you have something like Gander Mountain in northern Roanoke County, which is the only development I've ever heard of that actually turned down incentive money. Good for them. I try to shop there when I need something they sell.

This is our country. Corporate welfare is a plague. This kind of madness needs to stop. NOW. Make corporations work within their own budgets. That is what the rest of us. Why should a corporation be any different?

Blowin' in the wind makes for dirty dancing

This week's deaths of Patrick Swayze and Mary Travers of Peter, Paul and Mary fame both hit home.

Swayze has always been a favorite of mine. My husband says I drool over him when I watch Dirty Dancing. But it was really his type of cancer that cut me to the quick, because my mother also had pancreatic cancer.

And now my husband's aunt has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and I am very sorry about that. I love Aunt Jenny and she deserves better. She is a good woman. I pray for her every night.

I knew Aunt Jenny almost before I knew my husband. Growing up around here, you kind of know everyone. While my husband and I rode the same bus, he was four years older and had nothing to do with some sissy little girl who did her homework and looked out the window. (I still can't believe I married him sometimes! Can it really be?) Aunt Jenny was a substitute teacher while I was in elementary school, and she sometimes taught the class I was in. I went to school with her middle son, Alan, and I can remember when she became pregnant with the youngest cousin, Anthony. So I have a long history with her and I really am hoping for a miracle.

While I had no real connection with Mary Travers, I do know an awful lot of Peter Paul and Mary songs. They were some of the first I learned on the guitar and they are the ones that still come to mind on the rare times I pick the instrument up. Those soothing and cool melodies sometimes sing through my brain at strange times and I find myself humming those tunes. While the group has made no new music in a very long time, and the past music certainly isn't dead, it is still one of those things that brings pause and reflection.

I once wrote a poem that used the Where Have All the Flowers Gone song (which of course would be a copyright violation, wouldn't it. Eek). I hadn't thought of that poem in years. A quick search of my computer and of my files has failed to turn it up, alas. I wrote it in 1985 and it dealt with the bombings in Beirut. Maybe it will turn back up one of these days.

Thursday Thirteen

Today, I present to you pictures of deer.
These were taken in 2006, 2007 and 2008, mostly from my windows.


1. Seeing double.



2. Having breakfast.

3. Looking out.

4. Getting ready for a meeting.

5. Taking a rest.

6. Making a stand.

7. Watching.

8. Double trouble.

9. Seeing spots.

10. Winter feed.

11. Grass is greener in the front yard.

12. Pretty boy.


13. "Gardening."





Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 107!

Naming my teachers

I recently saw a request from Diane at Snappy Finger (or Blue Ridge Gal, she keeps changing the name, stop it, Diane!) on Facebook for the name of her third grade teacher, and that made me think. Do I remember all of my elementary school teachers?

Kindergarten at East Salem. I don't remember! I know I had one, though.

1st grade at East Salem. Mrs. Zircle. I recall her as being very mean and sending me home in tears; I remember my mother telling me at some point that her husband had passed away and I should be kind to her. A bit difficult for a six-year-old to understand, I would think.

Breckinridge Elementary School

2nd grade. Mrs. Wright. She was the first teacher to insist on calling me by my "real" name as opposed to the family nickname. I will always be grateful to her for that.

3rd grade. Mrs. Fairfax. She was very kind to me, especially since I think this was the year I started missing an average of 30 days of school due to asthma and related bronchial issues. One of my main memories about third grade has more to do with my parents than my teacher. My father had asked me if there were any black teachers at the school, and I had told him no. When the parent-teacher meeting was held, lo and behold there was my teacher, Mrs. Fairfax ... and she was black. I received a beating for lying. I tried to explain to my father that I just never noticed that she wasn't white. He didn't believe me.

4th grade. Mrs. Lanning. Two incidents with this teacher. In one, she stopped the class mid-discussion and called on me. "Anita, who did your hair?" she demanded. "It looks terrible." My mother had done my hair in some kind of strange part and plait that morning. I never again let my mother do my hair. In the other, Mrs. Lanning sent a note home demanding my parents attend the parent-teacher meeting. She told my parents that she didn't know what was going on at home but obviously there were problems. "That child will not hug anyone," she said. "She yearns to be hugged and sometimes she just stands beside me, very close. If I touch her she flinches, though." My mother berated me all the way home for ... well, not being huggable, I guess. In spite of these incidents, I loved Mrs. Lanning and I was teacher's pet.

5th grade. Mrs. Prease aka Mrs. McCullough. Mrs. Prease cried all through the school year. She really should not have been teaching. I don't know what was going on with her in her personal life but she spent a lot of time with her head on her desk in tears.

6th grade. Mrs. Nofsinger. She was a very old woman who chewed tobacco. She was the most difficult teacher in the school. I thought she was terrific.

Bible Study. We actually had a Bible study course from 4th-6th grade at Breckinridge. Fourth grade must have been a bad time for me, because Mrs. Caldwell, the Bible study teacher, made fun of me in Bible study class because my church attendance book was empty. My family did not go to church. After that I requested to be excused from Bible study and I was sent to the library along with three other children whose parents did not want them in Bible study. I loved learning about the Bible but I didn't appreciate being scolded for something I had no control over.

Books: Heir to Sevenwaters

Heir to Sevenwaters
By Juliet Marillier
Copyright 2008
395 pages

Marillier again visits Sevenwaters and dips into mythology for this addition to her Sevenwaters trio (making it her fourth Sevenwaters book).

I was very much reminded of her first book, Daughter of the Forest, as I read. The lead character, a plucky and determined lass, was very similar in nature. She would endure and take care of her family, no matter what.

The story dealt with the changeling myth in that her young brother was swapped out for a living tree trunk, which others saw as a mannequin but which Clodagh saw as an infant.

There is of course a love interest, an aloof and proud warrior, who ultimately goes along for the adventure as Clodagh journeys to other worlds to save her sibling. In a nice twist, the son she was saving turned out to be different from her original intentions; I'll say no more.

Marillier is very good with descriptions, character growth, and lot. The story fairly skips along and this is not a book in which I skim paragraphs. Rather, this is a story I drank in, sort of like savoring a smoky wine.

I have now read all of the Sevenwaters books by this author and I suspect I will not be adverse to picking up other works.

Books: Song of the Lioness Quartet

Alanna: The First Adventure
In the Hand of the Goddess
The Woman Who Rides Like a Man
Lioness Rampant
By Tamora Pierce

These books, copyrights in the 1980s, are great stories of a female heroine.

Alanna is a young noblewoman who wants to be a knight.

Women, of course, are not knights. She trades places with her twin brother, who would much rather be a sorcerer, and goes in his stead to learn the trade of sword play.

She does this by binding her breasts when they begin to bud, and by changing her name to Alan.

Throughout these books, the young heroine experiences much character growth, though she always shows quite a steadfast determination to achieve her goals. She experiences love and in the latter two books has romps with the prince and a few other fellows. Fortunately this is tastefully done and never in detail; they simply retire to bed together.

The book creates an interesting world where many folks are blessed with a gift of some kind of magic - some are healers, some have foresight, etc. etc. Alanna is a healer but she eschews her gift early on. Later she embraces it.

Very good plots, lots of nice character development (Alanna faints a bit too much for me in the latter books, but oh well), and fast-paced reading.

None of the books lagged and I couldn't tell you which I thought was the better book.

Nicely done.

Local Bloggers Meet Up

Diana, formerly of Blue Ridge Gal, now of Snappy Finger, has scheduled a local bloggers meet up for September 26 at 12 p.m. at Franks Pizza on Alt. US 220. That's near the BAC and the pharmacy and across the street from the Eye Care place.

We had a local bloggers meet up in April and it was quite fun, so I do hope you will plan to attend if you're in the area.

Expect good food, lots of laughs, and a chance to put a face to the blogs you read regularly.

Do come.

My new endeavor

On October 24 I will launch a new endeavor. I am offering a workshop on the business of making money with words and pictures. It will be from 9 - 12:30 p.m. at the Fincastle Library in Fincastle and will cost $50. No pre-registration necessary.

What makes me qualified to do this? Well, if money is the measure of success (I happen to think it's not, but other people do), then I would hope the fact that I've earned over six figures through my freelancing efforts counts.

Other measures of success would include having published more than 1,000 articles in publications like OurHealth magazine, Cooperative Living, Valley Business Front, The Fincastle Herald, The Roanoke Times, The New Castle Record, The Roanoke Star-Sentinel, The Salem Times-Register, and The Cave Spring Connection. I have also won awards for my nonfiction, fiction and poetry.

I will talk about how to establish a successful home office and how to find stories and pictures to sell. I will explain local, regional and state markets, discuss the best way to approach an editor, and examine other forms of profitable writing and photography, including Internet writing.

Handouts will include a list of local and regional markets, suggested reading and examples of successful query letters.

I hope you will join me. It should be a fun 3 or 4 hours.

343 on 9/11

Remembering the 343 firefighters who died in the Twin Towers in New York City on 9/11, so that others may live.

Thursday Thirteen

Today I offer up 13 more things about Myrtle Beach, SC and then this is the last I'll be writing about my vacation. I know some of you are probably glad about that.

1. A cold day at the beach is not necessarily fun, but a blanket and a hat makes a world of difference.




2. Overheard in a restroom at Tanger Outlet: Woman A to child upon leaving the stall: "Go wash your hands." Woman B: "No! Don't use the soap." Woman A: "Why don't you let her use the soap?" Woman B: "I never let her use soap. She might be allergic to it." Woman A (who obviously is a friend to Woman B). "That is so retarded."

3. Golf courses are pretty to look at.

4. My husband is a hard-working man who needs his rest, and he finds the beach restful.




5. On the economy: shopkeepers told us tourism in 2008 was much worse than in 2009; more people are traveling. Of course, gas prices are not $4.50 a gallon this summer.

6. Sand gets into everything.




7. A soft mattress on a king-sized bed is hard to get used to when you normally sleep on an extra firm mattress on a queen-sized bed.

8. Shopping is very hard on your feet.

9. I am a sucker for unproven remedies for bodily aches, particularly my plantar fasciitis. Once again I dolled out many dollars in search of something for my foot pain. This time I bought "Happy Feet" inserts which have a watery type substance in them. I haven't decided if they help but they have changed my weight distribution; I can tell by the difference in my gait and in my calluses.

10. My fudge is just as good as that made at The Fudgery.

11. Myrtle Beach always makes me think about my mother, who passed away August 24, 2000. My mother spent a lot of time at Myrtle Beach and enjoyed the shopping. In 1988 we were vacationing there at the same time and she bought me a lovely London Fog coat, which unfortunately no longer fits. It was one of the nicer times we spent together there.

12. At Barefoot Landing, we saw tigers in a glass cage. One was white. They were magnificent creatures.



13. During a round of putt-putt golf, I sent my ball into the pond. My husband fished it out. He's my hero!



This is not a real elephant. It was at the putt-putt golf course at the pond.





Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 106!

Myrtle Beach: Memory Lane

Broadway at the Beach at Myrtle Beach is, first and foremost, a shopping center, but it has a carnival atmosphere.

Hawkers line the walking paths, selling light sabres, cotton candy, popcorn and other portable goodies. Music, generally oldies, blasts from speakers hidden in strategic corners.

A big dragon bursts out of a volcano and has a word with you every hour or so.

In one corner, the remnants of the Myrtle Beach Pavilion, destroyed a couple of years ago, offer a glimpse of what used to be. A few of the rides have been moved to a Nostalgic Park there.



I have always loved the organ (German Baden Band Organ). It was built in 1900. I have watched it play for as many years as we've visited the beach. It wasn't playing when we were there.

Here's what it looked like when we were there:



The other treasure preserved at the nostalgic park is the carousel. I vaguely remember riding on this when I was young.



This is a Herschell-Spillman Carousel and it dates back to 1912. It has lots of animals on it, not just horses. It is one of only 15 of these kinds of carousels in the United States.

The area also offers up some old and new arcade games, and we ventured in there. I am a great lover of arcade games. I played pinball and I won two free games on the machine.

I have been playing pinball since I was infant. My parents told me that my father used to put me in a car seat and take me to the bars, where he would set me on the pinball machine. I chased the balls around while he played. It's a wonder I didn't fall off on my head.

Here we saw evidence of more changes. At Broadway, we loved the old clock shop; it's no longer there. The Christmas store is gone, too. They used to have a laser light show; it's been replaced with fireworks one night a week only. Fudge is now $15 a pound. When did that happen? We thought $6 a pound was high. We usually bring fudge home; this year we decided I could make a pound if we were desperate for the treat.

Taffy is also expensive; it's a family staple and we take boxes of the stuff back with us. What used to cost $1.25 is now $7.95. Same taffy, but it sure has risen in price.

The higher prices caught us off guard; we had to revise our spending to keep up with it. Dinners that we thought would be $50 are now $70; it eats into the budget quickly.

Our trip to Myrtle Beach ended quietly and was not long enough; six days is not enough for traveling and unwinding. As soon as I start to catch my breath it's time to pack the bags and head home again. We have never in our lives taken a solid two weeks of vacation; I would dearly love to do so. But with the farm I doubt that ever happens.

Aside from the chilly weather and the screaming child, we had a nice relaxing time. Vacations are highly recommended.

Myrtle Beach: The Market Common

On Monday, August 31, we toured The Market Common at Myrtle Beach.

This is a new shopping area.

I was keen to explore this because it is similar in concept the Daleville Town Center. I began writing about the Daleville Town Center from its inception and had been following the development of this proposed "traditional neighborhood" for four years, so I was interested in seeing one that was better underway.

The Market Common at Myrtle Beach was built on the old Air Force Base. It has shops, main street areas, and places to live above the shops. Daleville Town Center has the same plan: shops, living spaces, walking - a ready-built town, in other words.

At The Market Common in Myrtle Beach, the shops are filled with things like Barnes & Noble, Williams-Sonoma, Cold Creek. Not stuff that local marketeers and entrepreneurs might sell, but ordinary corporate normal made-someplace-else stuff that you can find most anywhere else in the United States.



I longed to see a line of stores that were different, independently owned and operated, offering up a world of goods that would be unique to each merchant. I would spend time in a place that offered things I could not see elsewhere, but I had no real desire to see the whitewashed goods I can find at Valley View Mall in Roanoke.

I would have liked for Barnes & Noble to have stayed where it was near Broadway at the Beach, and had a smaller bookstore owned by an independent bookseller, for example. Something like a Ram's Head at Towers Mall in Roanoke. There's a great bookstore that should be in something like The Market Common or Daleville Town Center.




The Market Common in theory seems to be fine, but I do not find it enticing. I wonder if in five years it will still stand. The shopkeeper at Williams Sonoma said it had been a struggle to stay open. There were very few people there when we were visiting.


After we hit The Market Common, we went to Tanger Outlet, where we visited many clothing stores, began our Christmas shopping, and in general wore out the bottoms of our shoes. All the people who should have been at The Market Common were at Tanger Outlet, sticking with the tried and true.




Next we went to The Original Benjamin's for dinner, a seafood buffet that cost $26.75 each. The food was great but I felt like I was in a warehouse.

Tuesday dawned cloudy again, so we walked the beach in hopes of working off Monday night's feast. We debated on renting an umbrella and two chairs from the lifeguard. It was expensive - $30 a day, less if you went for multiple days. In the end we doled out $95 for 4 days of use. Otherwise we would have had to buy an umbrella and chairs. I am fair-skinned, burn easily, and on medication that says "stay out of direct sunlight" on it, so no way could I have just lain out in the sun like other beauties.

By the end of the day I had read through two book by Tamora Pierce and started a third. My husband was resting a lot, which was good, and I was trying to.

Soon we would be taking a trip down memory lane.

Myrtle Beach: The Screaming Child

We will remember the third day of our 2009 Myrtle Beach vacation for the screaming girl-child. Her family put up their umbrella and chairs about 15 feet from us. We rent an umbrella and chairs from the lifeguard - expensive, but easier. So we couldn't move.

The couple had three children with them, two girls, who looked to be twins somewhere about age 10, and a younger boy. The boy stole a bottle cap from one of the girls, who was making a sand castle.

"It's mine! It's mine! Give it back give it back give back!" The whine began in a normal voice and quickly grew in volume. Louder. Louder. Louder still.

The boy pestered her a bit; her parents ignored them. Finally she screamed enough that they paid attention. Their male authority figure (black haired, stockily built, northern accent) called a timeout, and sat the boy in a chair and the girl in a chair. The other girl moved to the sandcastle.

The girl in the chair began a constant tirade against her sister. "Gabriella, don't touch that, Gabriella, that's mine, it's mine it's mine mine mine, Daddy make her stop, it's mine Gabriella don't do that, it's mine it's mine." Again an increase in volume, an increase in intensity, until the girl in the chair was screaming. She screamed. And screamed. And screamed for two solid hours.

I don't know how the adults with her stood it and it was obvious she probably does this a lot. She screamed so loudly that every pair of eyes within a football field's length of us trained on this girl, because surely someone was taking a sword to this child's head.

She screamed and screamed and screamed. I wanted to say something to the parents but my husband restrained me. I was trying to rest and read; who could do anything with that racket? It was nerve-wracking and irritating, to say the least. The female adult never said anything; Dad once in a while said "Shut up" but the girl never listened. She screamed so much I thought she might get hoarse but we were not that lucky.

My husband, who was trying to nap, lay there muttering things under his breath like "take her swimming in the deep water" and hoping that the adults would show some couth and shut the kid up, but alas, that did not happen. Had she been mine, I'd have hauled her off to the motel room after 30 seconds of that screaming and made her stay there. For the rest of the day. And then some.

She screamed so much and so hard and so long that my husband at last said the child must be mentally ill. I told him I did not think that; just poorly parented.

After two solid hours of this, my nerves were so raw you would have thought I had ripped them out of my body and exposed them to the air. I do not dislike children - they often amuse me, with their energy and their enthusiasm - but I do not like screaming little brats.

I do not know what the protocol is for dealing with such an incident. I wanted to ask the father for $25 to reimburse us for the umbrella rental; I kind of figured he owed us that. I couldn't figure out how to handle the situation and so did nothing except pray that they would not settle in the same place the next day.

This they did, and the day after and the day after that. Fortunately there were no similar incidents of length, though there were small disturbances of the whining nature. And at one point one of the little brats... um, girls ... came over to my husband and said, "Excuse me, may I please have the time?" which just floored us both.

I know children will be children, and what occurred on subsequent days did not annoy me or bother me; it was easily ignored. Upon reflection I feel sure that this was Daddy with Step Mom or Girl Friend and his children have learned how to take advantage of the problems in the family structure. However, that is no excuse for poor manners and selfishness.

Myrtle Beach: accomodations & the weather

On Monday, August 31, we woke to rain, thunder and lightning on our first day at Myrtle Beach. We had arrived on Sunday, August 30, and discovered that we were staying in an unexpected place.

Our motel turned out to be a remodeled Pan American. Had we known this, I am sure we would not have stayed at this facility. When I called I had been given the impression this was a totally new place that opened in 2007.

No matter. As it was, it turned out fine.

The motel, originally only six stories, was now 13 (14 on the elevator, we Americans are so superstitious), and it had been completely remodeled and renovated, and a sister tower added next door. Once we figured out what had happened I relaxed, though I wasn't surprised when mold appeared in our bathroom on our fifth day there. I alerted housekeeping and thankfully they went after it with bleach.



Our motel from the beach. The lower six floors are the older part; we were on the fourth floor, corner room on the left in this photo.

The owners went to quite an expense to turn their older facility into a new modern one, and I daresay it has paid off. This place was nearly full most of the time we were there. It is a kid-friendly facility and maybe not quite what we were looking for, since we are middle-aged couple with no kids. But I would go back there, now that it has been redone.

Sunday evening, after our arrival, we toured the area as is our habit. We were looking for even more changes than those we found in 2007. We knew coming down that the Pavilion, the race track with the great little go carts and our favorite restaurant, the Outrigger, had vanished. They were gone when we vacationed in North Myrtle Beach in 2007.

This year so much looked different I could not tell what had changed. A few things remained - but now Myrtle Beach is mostly beach, shopping centers and golf. The things that made it unique are no more, and that is a shame. Because I can go shopping pretty much anywhere.

In other words, Myrtle Beach is no longer a destination for the "regular folks" but is now a destination point for those who do the big-wheeling. The fellows who play golf and their wives who need shopping as a diversion. The rest of us? Eh. Who cares.

Anyway, our room was pleasant enough. It had two TVs, a couch, table, king-sized bed, full-size refrigerator, stove, microwave, three sinks, bathroom, closet, little vanity/dressing area. It was a nice-sized room for two people.




The place was a little short of amenities - no coffee for the coffee pot - but we bring our own stuff anyway (except for coffee, we had to buy that) so it did not really matter. I suspect this is the way of hotel-staying in the future, fewer little touches.

Our motel is a three-star and very nice. After our adventure in 2001 at its former self, I was much relieved.

Monday brought rain, a herald of the week. Unfortunately we saw very little sunshine as the beach sky stayed overcast and cloudy much of the time we were there. The temperatures never strayed above the low 80s and for much of the time we sat on the beach, I huddled under an extra towel for warmth. The winds blew cool and hard, sending my book pages turning if I loosened my grip on the novel.



Unfortunately, a good deal of the time, the beach looked sad and wet.

Prologue

In 2001, my husband and I ventured to Myrtle Beach for vacation around the end of August. We opted that year to try a new place for us, and so chose the Pan American.

The year before we had driven around and looked at various motels from the outside, though we did not go in any of them. We liked the Pan American at the time because it sat with only three or four other motels in the midst of a residential area. It didn't look like it would be too crowded.

So when the time came for vacation the following year, we booked there.

For those who may not know, there are three "cities" along the beach that stretches from the North Carolina line down to the middle of the South Carolina coast. North Myrtle Beach is one, and it is where we usually stay. It has fewer hotels, less people, and not as many things to do. Myrtle Beach is about 8 miles down the road from North Myrtle Beach. It is full of motels, night clubs, shopping centers, golf courses, etc., and we just drive down there to experience all there is to see and do. And then there is Atlantic Beach, which is in between North Myrtle Beach and Myrtle Beach. It's kind of a no-man's land, although it is being spruced up in some quarters. I have been told that during segregation this was the black beach, though I do not know that for certain.

Anyway, the Pan American was in northern Myrtle Beach (as opposed to North Myrtle Beach) so it was a different location for us.

Unfortunately, the timing of the trip coincided with the first anniversary of my mother's death. I was an emotional wreck, and quite stressed. The hotel, which didn't look too bad on the outside, turned out to be terrible. I have a nose for molds and mildew and some places simply take my breath away as soon as I walk into them, thanks to my allergies and asthma. This motel was one. From the lobby to the room, it stank.

We bought air freshener and bleach but it wasn't enough. There were also cockroaches in the room. My sinuses erupted and by Tuesday night I was having chest pains from the stress of trying to be in such a hostile environment at the place where I have strong memories of my mother (my family has always vacationed at Myrtle Beach). I sobbed into my husband's shoulder and begged him to take me home. Our week-long stay ended very early that year.

We count that as one of our worst vacations.

Cut now to Sunday, August 30, 2009. Yep, last Sunday we left good ol' Botetourt and headed for Myrtle Beach.

We hadn't planned on a vacation but in July my poor husband, hard working and tired, told me he really needed some time away. So I hunted up an email I'd received about great rates at Myrtle Beach. One of the places advertised was in northern Myrtle Beach, not North Myrtle Beach, but the rates were great. Less than $100 for an ocean-front efficiency room with a king-sized bed. The place also rated well at tripadvisor.com.

After the usual 7-hour drive down (we stop a lot), we pulled into our motel. The area looked familiar but we've been to Myrtle Beach so many times it all kind of runs together.

We went to check in. My husband forgot his glasses so he left it to me to hand over the credit card and sign for the room.

I looked at the receipt I was signing. On the name of the motel, it also said dba PAN AMERICAN.

My heart lept up into my chest. What had we done?

Just passing through

Books: Light on Snow

Light on Snow
By Anita Shreve
Copyright 2004
Audio book
6.5 hours
Read by Alyson Silverman

This is one of the better books I have read in a while. Twelve-year-old Nicky is dealing with a grieving father two years after her mother and her baby sister Clara were killed in a car wreck. Dad uprooted himself and his daughter and fled their life in New York, settling in a remote area of New Hampshire. He turned into a reclusive furniture maker who did not take a lot of baths.

Nicky settled into school and was doing her best to keep to a routine, even though her father would not allow TV or newspapers into the house (he feared bad news). They had a habit of walking in the woods after she came from school.

One snowy day in early December, they heard a cry. Following the sound, they came across an abandoned baby in a sleeping bag. Dad grabbed up the child and they hustled the little girl to a hospital.

Life took different turns from there, what with the attention of the rescue and the ensuing investigation. Also, Christmas was coming and Nicky was anticipating her grandmother's visit. A few people even dropped in to buy furniture for holiday presents.

Twelve is a strange age, a time of growing up. Add the complications of strangers and you have a coming-of-age story that should not be missed.

The Phoenix Bridge

This historic bridge is located about 2.6 miles from Eagle Rock in Botetourt County, Va. It is one lane across Craig's Creek on Rt. 685. The roadway is made of wood.

The bridge was constructed in 1887 and was one of the first steel bridges in this end of Virginia. It is called a Phoenix Bridge because it was built by The Phoenix Bridge Company of Phoenixville, Pennsylvania.

The bridge in on the National Register of Historic Places.

Iron instead of timber use in bridges began around 1840; two iron bridges were built across the Erie Canal in New York about that time.

In 1850 an iron railroad bridge collapsed, which set the use of iron back a bit.However, by the 1860s it was in demand and after the Civil War there was a boom in bridge-building.

Many companies formed to take advantage of the need, including the Phoenix Bridge Company.

The Phoenix Company's distinctive product was the Phoenix post, a compression member composed of four flanged segments riveted together, which is used in this bridge.

It is formed of rolled wrought iron.

A daisy sort of day

Land of the Bought and Sold

In the Roanoke Times on August 27, 2009 on page 21 (I'm a subscriber), Michael Steele, chairman of the Republican National Committee, had an opinion piece that originally appeared in the Washington Post.

The opinion was about health care. It was titled, "Health care GOP style" and it talked about what is wrong with the Democrats' plan for an overhaul.

What struck me out of the whole thing was this sentence:

"Republicans oppose any new government entity overruling a doctor's decision about how to treat his patient."

Ah. But Republicans don't mind sticking their nose in where it doesn't belong in regards to health care, particularly where it pertains to women.

What about abortion? What about the woman who was raped who would have to carry an evil man's child to term under proposed anti-abortion law changes? What would happen then? If the doctor thought her depression from her situation was so severe that an abortion would save her life, you'd say... tough... wouldn't you Mr. Republican? Or if the incested 16-year-old slits her wrist because she's carrying her daddy's baby, I suppose you'd lock her up and force her to term, wouldn't you, Mr. Republican? Because we don't want that girl and her doctor making a decision about her body. It's okay to meddle then, or so you say.

And what about those rules about birth control? Particularly the ones that allow a pharmacist to become an "entity" sticking his nose between a doctor and his patient because he doesn't believe in birth control How about that, Mr. Republican? Maybe you didn't realize that birth control pills are handed out for many things that have nothing to do with birth control? They help many women balance their hormones. Women with endometriosis need them just to get through a day sometimes without searing pain - I know, I was one of them. But that sort of meddling is okay, right, Mr. Republican? So long as it serves the cause, it is okay to overrule.

What a bunch of B.S. The whole thing is a fiasco designed to put more money in other people's pocket. There is not a single politician out there who cares one bit if you or I live or die. Not a single one, not in any party. All they see are dollar signs.

Land of the free. Phtt. Land of the bought and sold, if you ask me.