This is what I did on my fall "vacation" last week, in case you were nosy:
- Imagine a cool, sunny October afternoon in the Carolinas. Imagine soaking in a hot tub in a backyard, watching leaves fall and dragonflies zip past you. Imagine doing this for a half-hour, then laying down in a hammock for another half-hour. While I occupied this little time-space of heaven, I could think of only one thing: Sex? Sex is for the young. Let the little whippersnappers fumble with condoms and diaphragms, clumsily doing the nasty while thoughts of unintended pregnancy, STDs, and what-the-hell-am-I-doing-here lurk about in their brains. This hour on Saturday afternoon, my friends, was pure pleasure.
- My wife, in-laws, and I spent Friday in Asheville, a little gem of a city in western North Carolina. If Charlotte doesn't strike you as a genuine Southern city, Asheville is even less of one. It's as if aliens pulled a town in northern California out by the roots and transported it 2000 miles to a little nook among the Smoky Mountains. Hippies and buskers abound everywhere (the town hosts a huge drum circle every Friday), the tiny shops are fantastic, and the entire downtown is practically an giant Art Deco museum. If God told me to move to the South, I'd move here.
- I spent more time during this trip in South Carolina than during previous in-law trips. Tori, my father-in-law, and his wife spent a little time at a Confederate monument in Rock Hill. These monuments are light-years away from the Civil War monuments and gravesites up north. Northerners know about the Civil War, but we're pretty laid-back about it. South Carolina, on the other hand, seems to define itself by the Civil War, and to them, war event that occurred nearly 150 years might as well had ended last month. Monuments were erected to the "cause of Southern freedom," slaves are depicted as loving, loyal defenders of the Confederacy, and the sites themselves are meticulously maintained by local historical societies. It's a world entirely alien to a first-time tourist who has never lived south of Kansas City.
- No matter what my wife says, I didn't pet my sister-in-law's dogs one bit. I kicked them all around the house when they approached, and not once did I scritch around their ears and rub their bellies. Any statements to the contrary are pure libel, and will be answered by lawsuits ASAP.
Finally, I can't end this little blog entry without thanking my wife's family, who have adopted me as their own over the last few years. And to my sis- and bro-in-law, don't be surprised if you go into the backyard one night and find your hot tub missing.
