Charleston, Day 4: Secret Alley Hunting, Middleton Place & Homeward-Bound

Well-rested, we awoke on our final day in Charleston and headed back downtown, determined to track down two “secret passageways” recommended by our hotel’s well-known concierge. After parking in the same place as we did on our second day, we first walked through Waterfront Park again, checking out the famous Pineapple Fountain one last time.


We then walked along Battery Row, in search of Stoll’s Alley, which was a bit hard to find—but pretty cool.


The other passageway, Philadelphia Alley, was pretty as well, but less impressive. We were also getting a bit restless at this point, ready to get breakfast and get started out of town. We stopped at Dixie Supply for a cup o’ joe on the walk, but with the sky looking a little forebidding, we elected to skip the last visit to the market area. Instead, we headed back to the hotel to pack up and embark on the interminable checkout process.

We wanted to hit one last Charleston landmark for breakfast: the Hominy Grill.


Bolstered by some tremendous shrimp and grits from this great spot, we then set out for our last stop in South Carolina: Middleton Place plantation.

Situation about 15 miles northwest of Charleston proper, the drive was beautiful after we escaped some of the traffic surrounding the city. The winding road to the plantation area was bordered by amazing old trees that formed a tunnel canopy for speeding cars.

After arriving at Middleton Place, you enter the grounds near the Reflection Pool, and are immediately struck with the beautiful live oaks and peaceful solitude of the property.






A solitary statue greets you at one turn in the path.




Looking toward where the original plantation stood, you are taken back in time a little bit when you see a rustic carriage led by horses.




Circling the grounds, it was hard not to be somewhat overwhelmed with nature’s beauty, but there was a relative lack of color in the infamous garden. But you couldn’t argue with the view provided by looking back down toward the Ashley River.


The museum tour was interesting, the highlight being a slip of paper that essentially gave its bearer a free pass to travel from the south to the north without being harassed -- signed by none other than Abraham Lincoln himself.

The farm area included pigs and horses and cows and roosters, but the most humbling part of the tour came when you walked past the slave cemetery and toward Eliza’s House, a former slave quarters.






After an extensive and exhausting tour of Middleton Place, we were finally ready to head back home. A series of backroads eventually led us back to the interstate -- where we had plenty of time to ponder all the things we had seen and done during our amazing visit to Charleston.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXI: Have You Heard About The Weather, Plus The Curious Case Of Russell Wilson

Horrific tornadoes in the Midwest
Lives lost and property messed
Footage painful and blurry
Of the sound and the fury
Mother Nature, please give it a rest

The king of exaggerated attitude
Weighed in on the lockout feud
Said evil would be unleashed on the land
A strange place to take a stand
For someone who once stabbed a dude

Rose is as quick as a jet
But he’s not ready yet
Not enough help, either
Can’t afford a breather
Mavs win it all, I bet

Skies filled with volcanic gray
Flooding down Mississipi way
Storms wreaking havoc on the land
Temperature rising out of hand
An environmental judgment day?

Russell Wilson released from State
The whole situation is one we hate
Over Mike Glennon we’ll fret
And hope we won’t regret
When we cut #16 too early, not late

Last time …

“Little Fockers” Might Have Made Even Less Focking Sense Than Its Title

I don’t have the energy to tell you just how bad this movie really was. So I’ll just say that, unless you have the desire to be able to say, “Little Fockers—I mean, what the f%*k?!,” you should do something else more entertaining, like watching Sarah Palin press conferences or Chad Ochocinco riding a bull.

Yes, it was that bad.

Tears And Beers Can Only Mean It’s Draft Day For The Dolphins

Usually, I invest a significant amount of time and energy in breaking down Dolphins drafts (as you can see here), which usually ends up making me sad and somewhat pissed off. This year, I don’t which makes me sadder: another Miami draft or the ongoing lockout.

Anyway, I thought I’d give a quick rundown of the newest Dolphins before heading off to the bar. After all, if nothing else, a Miami draft reinvigorates the prospect of a drinking problem.

First Round: Mike Pouncey, C/G, FloridaAn unofficial NFL drafting rule of thumb is that you don’t take a center this high (15th overall), but despite some warts, I don’t have a problem with this pick (well, except for maybe his jewelry; that’s his watch up there … *sigh*). Pouncey’s early-season snapping for the Gators was the fodder of late-night comedians, but he bounced back fairly well. By all accounts, he’s not as good as his twin brother, Markice (Pittsburgh), but this has been a huge problem area for Miami. My philosophy of football allows me to almost never be pissed off at the drafting of an impressive offensive lineman.

Second Round: Daniel Thomas, RB, Kansas StateI admittedly didn’t know too much about Thomas, but my immediate impression from the initial clips was that he ran way too upright. Further research led me to believe that the Dolphins traded up (for the price of third-, fifth- and seventh-rounders) for an unintelligent, upright, cone-headed runner with fumbling issues and a lack of breakaway speed. But hey, he’s run the Wildcat before, which may automatically make him more accurate than Chad Henne.



Fourth Round: Edmond Gates, WR, Abilene ChristianMy favorite pick of Miami's draft, Gates is a legit burner and return man from the school that produced Chicago Bears speedster Johnnie Knox. Gates could give the Dolphins the downhill threat that Ned Ginn never could, making him a great fit. I can envision Henne underthrowing him for years and years.

Sixth Round: Charles Gray, FB/TE, TulsaA hybrid, H-back type with good hands, Gray seemed to attract a lot of attention from the Miami media after his selection (hey, fellas, let’s remember this is a sixth-round pick). The staff must have really liked him considering the fact that what the Dolphins really need is a road-grader, blocking tight end, but hey, here’s another dude with Wildcat experience—which may offer further proof that Dan Henning and David Lee could be haunting this franchise from beyond the grave.

Seventh Round: Frank Kearse, DT, Alabama A&MMiami seems to like small-school defensive linemen, so Kearse’s selection here isn’t exactly surprising. He’s a widebody who has been tabbed as something of an underachiever, but who knows—the Dolphins need interior help on defense, so Kearse will certainly get all the opportunities he needs to impress. The measuring stick for Miami rookie defensive linemen these days is whether they can make it through training camp without sobbing, so the bar isn’t set too high here.

Seventh Round: Jimmy Wilson, DB, MontanaAs a general rule, I usually don’t like seeing words like “once murdered someone” in draft bios. But hey, if you’re going to roll the dice on a murderer, it’s best that they rehab their image somewhere like South Beach, right? Yeah … this can’t end well.

So there you have it … all in all, not a very inspired draft by general manager Jeff Ireland and his crew. Most of the storylines will center around Miami electing not to trade up for a quarterback, but choosing to do so for a relatively nondescript running back. Personally, I would have preferred to see a late-round signal-caller picked purely for competition reasons, but beyond that, it looked like the Dolphins drafted a little more for need this year than usual. For a braintrust that could be in lame-duck mode, one had to expect Miami to play it relatively safe on Draft Day(s).

As usual, barring the early outs such as Pat White or Patrick Turner, ask me in three years about this draft—the only question will be whether either Ireland or coach Tony Sparano will be around by then?

The Sausage King Of Chicago ... Always

Genius meets a Scooter favorite. Bravo.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX: Arnold’s Like Tiger On ‘Roids, Plus Have Yourself A Safe Little Saturday

Had muscles and a fake smile, that’s a fact
But morals and intelligence he did lack
A bastard barbarian was born
The Terminator told him, forlorn,
“Sorry, but I won’t be back”

Back when baseball was pure
He crushed them, that’s for sure
So RIP, Harmon Killibrew
The game was better because of you
Another reason we need a cancer cure

Bin Laden killed and thrown in the wet
Sigh of relief for justice done, you bet
Well done to the Navy Seals
Let’s confine our cheers and squeals
The war on terror ain’t over yet

He presided over IMF cash
But he tried to assault and dash
Attempted to rape a maid and flee
Jerked off a plane in NYC
Enjoy Ryker’s, you douchey Eurotrash

Tomorrow’s the apocalypse, they say
It seems about right, anyway
So if it’s the rapture
A bunch of beer I will capture
Then hope for the best on doomsday

Last time …

Charleston, Day 3: Sullivan’s Island, Poe’s Tavern & Jestine’s

A short jaunt across the bridge on a beautiful morning led to a relatively easy drive to Sullivan’s Island. After driving around some side streets in search of a suitable beach access, we found the ideal spot. The short walk to the beach revealed very few people, plenty of room to roam and relatively warm water—the perfect combination of ingredients for a fun day at the beach.


We stayed for almost two hours before embarking on the sandy walk back to the car. The next stop was the highly regarded Poe’s Tavern for lunch. Surprisingly, the place was pretty packed for a lazy weekday afternoon in early May, so we had to sit inside, which was fine due to the heat.


One cool touch was that the bathroom wall was lined with pages and pages of Poe’s writing. The food took forever after we ordered, but a Coast IPA helped pass the time. And just as I was starting to get a little pissed and impatient, it arrived—the best burger I have ever had. I had chosen The Sleeper, which featured roasted garlic blue cheese and buffao shrimp and went down as my favoritist burger of ever times.


When our lunch was over, we headed back to Charleston proper, completely exhausted. After unplanned naps that were much longer than anticipated, our plans to head back downtown for some alley scouting and shopping were rendered obsolete, which was fine.

Instead, we walked a couple of blocks from the hotel to nearby Jestine’s, a famed soul-food spot that we had tried to eat at a couple of days ago. This time, we were first in a confusing line, and we sampled the chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, sweet tea and Coca Cola cake. The food was good, but not quite great, even though it was ideal for what we needed at the time.

Back at the hotel, I sampled the Palmetto Espresso Porter, a Palmetto IPO and a Tusker from the Charleston Beer Exchange, and the Espresso Porter was unequivocably a standout. The quiet time gave a chance to catch up on world events, such as the killing of Osama bin Laden and the Boston-Miami playoff game. Ah, the circle of life.

All in all, it was a much-needed low-key day, especially since tomorrow included an early-morning trip downtown, a visit to the Middleton Place plantation and the long journey home.

Charleston, Day 2: Waterfront Park, the Market, South Carolina Aquarium, Hank’s

After a thoroughly exhausting first half-day in Charleston, we headed down to Waterfront Park, the following morning for a modeling session family photo shoot. I grabbed a nice parking spot in the one-hour meter area, then we stumbled across our unexpected-looking photographer. I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she didn’t quite know what she was doing as we wandered down side streets and alleys, but I guess we’ll see when the results come in.

I ran back to feed the meter, then we successfully found the famous Rainbow Row.


The houses were much more modest than the ones on Battery Row, but very colorful (or was that obvious in the name?). Depending on who you ask, there are some “colorful” explanations for why the homes are painted thusly, but my favorite was so that drunk sailors could successfully remember which house they were staying in after a jaunty night on the town. Another intriguing explanation was the stretch was once home to a series of shops, and they were painted in this fashion so that illiterate slaves could be instructed which shops to visit by color.


After some strolling, I was ready to check out the relatively well-recommended Charleston Beer Exchange. And if Rainbow Row was a tad underwhelming, the Charleston Beer Exchange was outright disappointing. The clerk had little to no interest in helping us track down notable regional beers and they had a weak selection, though I still somehow found a way to spend like $40. Boo, Charleston Beer Exchange.

Following yet another meter feeding, we found the Charleston Crab House in the middle of the Market area. And after some calamari, a crab cake and a Palmetto Espresso Porter, I was feeling better about this city. We bought a couple of trinkets in the market, then headed back to the hotel and later (surprisingly) found a nearby Harris Teeter for a few supplies. Then we headed off to the South Carolina Aquarium a few blocks away (please note the pelican in the upper right-hand corner of the shot, above the tree, below).


We weren’t able to check out the renowned 4-D theater at the aquarium, but overall it was a nice facility, dominated by an epic 385,000-gallon Great Ocean Tank. The albino alligator was pretty cool as well.

Outside offered some tremendous views of the surrounding docks.


As we had been enjoying phenomenal weather, the harbor was hopping with boaters, etc., surrounding the New Cooper River (Ravenel) Bridge.


A little while later, after a pretty comprehensive tour of the aquarium, we headed back to the hotel and then off to Hank’s Seafood. The restaurant and presentation looked lovely, but what was a bit too formal for us. The clientele, mostly comprised of tourists, wasn’t well-dressed, but the wait staff was (note: when you’re calmly informed that they need to “go next door” to finda high chair, that’s a Deep South subtle tipoff for “your toddler isn’t welcome”). So we elected to have a drink while we ordered food to go, and apparently the kitchen quickly found out there was a toddler on the premise, because they broke all kinds of culinary records in getting our food out and us out of the restaurant (the below picture was snapped as we were fleeing).


We headed back to the hotel, where we were invited to eat our take-out food in the lobby café by one of the nicest and dumbest waiters in the history of the world. The shrimp and grits and Seafood a la Wando (scallops, fish, crabmeat and grit cakes) were both tremendous (aided by a Sierra Nevada), so Hank’s did certainly bring it when it came to the food.

After another memorable and tiring day, we rested up for the following day’s foray: Sullivan’s Island.

Charleston, Day 1: The Market, Washington Park, Battery Row & The Harbor

With anticipation building, a relatively short jaunt down I-95 from Florence, South Carolina, led us to the beautiful city of Charleston, where our vacation would truly begin.

After some initial difficulty in finding a spot, we eventually found a downtown parking deck and got situated. We walked down Queen and found the Market, which was hopping on a Sunday late morning.


The day was moving quickly toward hot and crowded, so we decided to cut the shopping short and embark on our self-made walking tour. To aid the process, we grabbed some sandwiches from the Market Street Deli.


As we wound our way down Church Street, we stumbled into the famous Dock Street Theater—the first building in America designed to be used as a theater.


After discovering a beautiful cemetery across from the French Protestant Church, we moved on through the heart of the French Quarter to arrive at Broad Street.


Taking some time to directionally orient ourselves, we then came to our tour’s unoffical starting spot, Charleston’s oldest park: Washington Park.


From Washington Park, we walked down Meeting Street to Tradd, then came out on East Bay Street to start down Battery Row—a breathtaking series of homes facing the waterfront.


We traveled down East Bay all the way to White Point Gardens, better known as Battery Park. From there, we took King Street on our way back toward our car. There we discovered O’Donnell’s Folly, a beautiful home that got its name from the fact that its owner built it for his love, who married someone else before it was completed.


As our energy flagged, we went to check in to our hotel. With the afternoon passing quickly, we only had a small amount of time to head down to the Charleston Maritime Center. From there, we had a harbor tour scheduled aboard the Carolina Belle. We did a sail-by on Fort Sumter, as well as the USS Yorktown, which now serves as part of a state park.


Thoroughly exhausted by this point, we headed back to the hotel, gathered our strength, and headed off toward Jestine’s, which was thankfully only a few blocks from our hotel. Unfortunately, however, the line for this soul-food joint was around the block, so we begrudgingly had to settle for a chain restaurant called Sticky Fingers. A couple of Palmetto Lagers and some surprisingly good food later, we had our energy (somewhat) back. I grabbed a six-pack on the way back to the hotel and toasted the city out on the balcony as I thought of what lay in store for the following day: a photo shoot, more exploring downtown, a visit to the South Carolina Aquarium and dinner at Hank’s (well, maybe).

The Time Michael Scott Might Have Taught Me How To Fly

"They say on your deathbed you never wish you spent more time at the office. But I will. Got to be better than a deathbed." ~Michael Scott

“The Office” isn’t certainly the type of show that lends itself to poignant self-analysis or insightful evaluations of life paths. Shows that center on office pranks and bathroom humor just don’t really tend in that direction as a rule.

Yet this show was always so relatable to me that it became very personal over it’s seven seasons. Every Thursday, I would see reflections of my relationships and some of my predicaments, both inside and outside of work – to the point where, at one point in my life, it became a bit eerie.

So saying goodbye to Michael Scott in his series finale took on some measure of greater meaning for me. We have learned to take Steve Carell so much for granted that, at times, it takes an episode like this one to remind us of just what a gifted actor he truly is. He’s as capable of showing vulnerability as he is to deliver straight-faced lines; he can demonstrate unexpected self-awareness in the same breath as he delivers a well-crafted bit of physical humor; he can tug at your heart strings just as he tosses out a cringe-inducing scatalogical joke. In his last episode of “The Office,” his very best was on display, as he balanced on a tight rope between hilarity and emotion.

James Poniewozik of Time opined that “The Office” to this point has really been a character study on the evolution of Michael Scott, which is a great point. Poniewozik expounded in the following way:

Although the show didn't harp on it, the show was really about Michael's search for family: even more than he wanted to be a comedian or a movie director, Michael wanted to be a husband and a dad, but he had to go a long way to be ready for it.
And for a long time, the Scranton branch was the practice family that helped him learn—at the end of which, he was ready to walk down the hall of that airport terminal and, finally, fly.

Just as we were in tears (not me, man, but I’m just sayin’, a lot of people were) at the prospect of Michael Scott’s final walk toward a plane that would take him into a future that doesn’t involve Pam, Dwight, Jim or any of us, he takes off the mic and dead-pans to the crew, “Hey, will you guys let me know if this ever airs?” Again, it was that type of delicate balance and interplay of emotions that offered up the most appropriate farewell to one of the most memorable characters in comedic history.

Poniewozik also wrote that, for seven years, we were treated to Michael Scott’s “story of personal growth” (that’s what she said). And as his departure forces me to look back, I’m realizing that, all along, maybe it was mine as well.

Re-Envisioning Mountains And Stars

The Mountain from Terje Sorgjerd on Vimeo.

This is pretty awesome on a lot of levels.

"The Tron Lebowski" Borders On Brilliance

I was never much for "Tron," but I live and breathe "The Big Lebowksi." College Humor essentially boot-kicks this one outta the park.

Well-played, Dude. Well-played ...