Frankenberry's Attic

We saw the first billboard about 130 miles out.

Buc-Ee’s is coming, Buc-Ee’s is coming or something like that with maybe some exclamation points (I don’t remember) and a logo of a Beaver. I said to nephew Matt “Hey, isn’t that the place you were telling me of, the one you and Nick stopped at when you were helping him move?”

“Yeah, that’s it!” he said excitedly “We HAVE to stop!!” and thus Buc-Ee’s was added to the drive itinerary as our next stop for gas, food, stretched legs and kick foot shakes like cats for the old folk (me) and the not quite old folk ‘cause even if so, you daren’t say anything like that of a lady (my sis, Beck) and all things Buc-Ee’s according to Matt, which included the gas and the food and suddenly seemed to sponsor even the leg stretches and cat-like foot kick shakes through the sheer surrounding volume of branding everywhere.  

The drive? We were heading to South Carolina, Myrtle Beach specifically, for the Memorial Day weekend to see my Brother Nick, who had just moved there from Louisiana with Matt’s help. Matt flew down, drove Nick’s car while Nick drove the rental and then flew back from SC with plenty of stories of his first experience with a Buc-Ees and first experience with an extended time on the road with Uncle Nick.

The next billboard was at 70 miles as the anticipation built. This was getting pretty exciting, I thought, and would not be Wallyworld-like disappointing as Buc-Ees touts being open 24/7 365 so we were safe.

Another billboard was at 30 miles and you could practically smell and taste the place.

Then it was … almost screeching freakin’ tires as I was practically past the exit when Matt suddenly cried, “Uncle Steve I think this one’s it!”

Ok, one simple question here. How exactly do you do that by the way, or NOT do that to be more specific?! Now admittedly, it’s easy to lose a little track of time on the highway, and we weren’t paying all that much attention to the meager 30 miles left according to the last billboard, but I swear, that was the last fucking billboard!! How do you NOT announce more in more Billboard-speak, Billboard-ese when you have almost reached truck stop Valhalla?!

There were no final ones that exclaimed …

“We told you 2 hours ago, we told you 1 hour ago, we told you half an hour ago and now you are mere minutes away from the promised land of BUC-EES!!” or “It’s YOUR time future Buc-Ees disciple, get ready to make the commitment to Buc-Ees truck stop heaven!!” or “Turn now or live forever in Buc-Ees regret!! (with a big sad beaver emoji)”.

Nope, just a nephew and a fast reminder while I drove across the white slash lines to get properly on the exit ramp.

But, on arrival to the Walmart, nay, the Oz of truck stops? The place was absolutely huge, warehouse huge and it was packed. I think I should re-write the lyrics to the Clash’s “Lost in the Supermarket” changing it to “Lost in a Buc-Ee’s Truck Stop” since Beck and Matt and I literally had to text each other with big sign section wall landmark pictures for when we got separated, which was often.  

I mean holy distractions Batman!!

• A wall of jerky

• Hundreds of hot sandwiches including a triple decker sausage/brisket/turkey BBQ that comes with a crash cart and a dedicated medical staff

• Sausage on a stick (because of course)

• More stuffed beavers than … nope, not going there, plus, we were nowhere near a red light district as far as I knew

• Beaver chips – in case you were curious about those beaver flavored potato chips that are all the rage ’round these here parts

• Beaver pajamas – a gateway outfit for those Furries costume wearing fetish weirdo’s which I didn’t take any pictures of though my sister lingered a little longer at the display, uncomfortably longer, than she should have
• Hats that say BUC-EE’S including one that I now own

• A wall of 4 separate soda stations with 20 different sodas at each and right next to the restrooms and down from the wall of salty jerky because someone took a marketing class

• Bikini’s that say Buc-Ee’s on them that I also didn’t take any pictures of as I stayed away from taking pictures of anything that might make me look even more like the creepy bastard that I already looked as I took WAAAAAYYY too many pictures with a lot of strangers in them  
• Their own Sweets counter that included plenty of puddings that even came, at checkout, with the “mesmerizing pudding spoon”

It truly was an experience that even had us referred to as “monsters” in a group text by nephew Jake, the nephew who wasn’t able to join us, after we sent him pictures. “Heartless monsters” to be exact for stopping at Buc-Ee’s without him and then unintentionally gloating about it through the simple action of sending pictures (we had to stop on the way back to pick him up a t-shirt and his own hat because if we were heartless monsters for just sending him pictures I don’t want to imagine what we would have been considered by not picking anything up for him – probably would have the word ‘spawn’ tacked to it).

But then it was back on the road where, if you google how long a drive it is from Schenectady to Myrtle Beach will come up with a bit longer than 12 hours, which is the time that Beck and Matt had told me well before the trip and which, when we finally did arrive, could be viewed as, at best, misleading, at worst, downright cruel since I had that 12 hours stuck in my head for weeks. Now could I have googled the distance myself to check? Sure. Did I? No, I did not. And that is your lesson today kids on blind faith, it can be disappointing (something experienced by some folks every day in the world we live in) and long … 17+ hours instead of 12 long.

See, that 12 hours is more a crow flies or drives at 65/70 sometime nervously more (you’ve always been law abiding folks) but, a down the coast kinda thing, not as a Beck, Matt and Steve drive down the coast kinda thing as we took a longer route to avoid holiday Friday traffic around the NYC’s and DC’s and Los Angeles’s and Boise’s on our way and did make numerous stops, mainly to pee (another “feature” of the old thing mentioned earlier). The Buc-Ee’s added an hour as well, but that was totally necessary, I mean we had to pee again and buy hats and pudding and sausage on a stick right?

Eventually we arrived, after leaving at 7:30am, at the main drag of Myrtle Beach, with all the hotels and eventually the boardwalk along said beach of Myrtle, with seemingly one of those hotels being ours. We found out which another 45 minutes later because of the almost impenetrable mass of humanity along this main drag. And a mass of humanity that, a great deal of which anyway, wore some really unfortunate outfits though I am surely not one to judge as my wardrobe consists of only sweatpants, shorts and t-shirts and all in very drab colors. The colors here? Definitely NOT drab and the fashions? I’m guessing only the height of such, so cheers to them.

After the slow crawl we did make it to our parking garage and then our room at now around 2am.

Then it was time to vacationing for a couple of days and in a room with a heck of view, well in daylight of course.

The next day …

and …

and …

Then after breakfast with Nick the next morning, it was time to get to one of the most most important and most anticipated parts of our trip. Mini Golf.

But first there was this in the breakfast restaurant parking lot. Can’t tell ya how many times I’ve said in the past that someone needs to do something like this to a Crown Vic.

Ok … now to Mini Golf

-3 at a tee

There were many choices of Mini Golf locations including two competing Pirate themed ones that Beck, curiously, really wanted to play. Apparently she has always had some deep seeded Pirate/swashbuckling with a putter desires and needs to say “Aarrgghh” and “Avast Matey’s”! every time she sinks a putt. But sadly, or “Aarrgghh”ly in Beck’s case we decided on “Atlanticus Minotaur” Goff.

There were 3 rounds, 54 holes in all that we mini-golfed, in a couple of different spots over a couple of days and, though not some pirate ship and high seas mini-golf adventure, we still had a great first day and view to tackle Mt Atlanticus.

-Beck on the back (upper) 9

-Nick promotional shot

-Matt

-Nick promotional shot 2

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Now, there was also a bit of a purpose for visiting Nick other than just “Hey who wants to drive 17 hours when you think it might only be around 12 and almost, somehow pass right by a Buc-Ee’s?” followed by whoopees and cheers from all assembled for the question. We were also bringing him a futon. Beck had one, Nick didn’t, Beck didn’t want one, Nick did, well, at least his cat Cherokee did. So thus …

My brother has always lived very simply, not a lot of stuff, very spartan, always working, so he’s never really been one to indulge in some of the extravagant lifestyle trappings that you and I might be accustomed to like, say … furniture. Nick’s been there in Myrtle Beach for maybe 2 + months. The Futon? Pretty much tripled his furnishings. When we got there, he had a bed and a dresser and a room with litter boxes (no, the storage bins fashioned into cat window seats do NOT count as furniture).

Now? it’s like he’s been living there his whole life!! I mean there’s a cat on a futon for God’s sake!!

-(partial) Cherokee

-Echo … echo … echo …

-Smoky (not pictured: Flipper – under the bed)

-Kitty Litter Room

-NOT furniture

After this it was just enjoying some time away, something I never do, some boardwalk walks, a visit to an aquarium, some nice relaxed sit downs for meals, plenty of ice cream and then some cards, Spades specifically, in the evenings at the very nice hotel room that had furniture you could not only sit on, but spread your cards on too!! Nick felt quite fancy.

We all don’t see my brother very often and even when we were in the same vicinity he was always working so much that this trip, Nick actually having the weekend off and relaxing? Absolutely fantastic! And he got really mad losing at Spades on the second night. Bonus!

-No Boardwalk worth it’s salted meat would be without a Jerky Store

-Sorry Neil Degrasse Tyson and Hollywood but “Sparkles”? THAT’S where stars are born

-Rather large fish

-Reason people are afraid to go in the ocean

-Another Reason people are afraid to go in the ocean

-Cat we met on the boardwalk, along with a hotel security guy who was hanging out with her. We had just finished dinner a the restaurant on the pier and I had my leftovers of a nice full piece of fish (1 of 3) from fish & chips. Gave it to the fella for her. Cheers girlfriend, tonight you eat like a Queen!!

Other than being forced to endure more unfortunate fashion along the boardwalks for a couple of days it was a really nice break and there was more ice cream. I’m good with that. Then it was homeward.

Oh, and I did mention in the title of this post that there was car trouble, which was on this way back. It added 5 and a half hours to our trip (21 and half total). It involved a deer (poor fella) and a very cool Sheriff and State Cop. We didn’t die. Beck has a new car now.

Cheers all,