Roanoke Report

Currently I'm in a not-so-great motel room in Roanoke, Virginia attempting to entertain myself until bedtime. For some reason I have access to this incredibly fast internet service (chalk one up for finding a motel owned by a family from southeast Asia). Is there not a better time to blog? I think not!

Yes, that is my incredibly handsome son, Ben. I had the distinct pleasure of giving him a big goodbye kiss earlier today. If world leaders had to pass through the "official Ben exit" for a few days we'd have global peace within weeks, if not days. Here's one of my few (okay, MANY) confessions here: I cry every...and I mean EVERY...time I leave town for a show once I've told this child I have to leave for awhile. I used to do the same for Jessie used that she's a teenager? I won't continue that thought other than to say "not so much."

In the past week Jessie had her dance recital - (Memorial Day) weekend. Oh. My. God! My daughter is incredible! Honest to God, I've been wanting to blog about her with all kinds of digital photos and stuff but my wife has reminded me that there are really, really stupid creeps out there who should be our first explorers to Mars. She was....AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!! Talk about some salty stuff under the eyeballs?

For the record Ben is still painting - almost every day of the week. In fact both of his nurses, Tracy and Julie, are awesome ladies in allowing Ben to explore his creative side. Here's the problem: Ben is trying to tell us what he is painting when we cannot understand him. My feeling is that many people reading this shrug their heads and think, "oh, well, I've seen this type of behavior before."

Seriously, I'm not stupid. Okay...I'm not stupid some of the time but those that have worked with Ben KNOW exactly what I'm saying here. Ben is almost always dictating how he wants his paintings constructed. If you were around it you'd agree: at times this really blows my mind. Tracy, Vicki, Lisa, Julie and a host of other nurses know too. It's just so wonderful to be blessed with such creative kids!

Peace out.

The Exchange

I have no idea if the kid was an officer but he wore the dress shirt and billed cap filled with enough “scrambled eggs” that let me know he held a higher position than many of the other Russian sailors that passed by the booth. Most of them were extremely business-like, never smiling, only giving a quick nod to acknowledge a greeting. And they were kids! Many of them looked like they weren’t even shaving yet. This particular young man was different.

I had seen him interacting with the food vendor next to me. He seemed generally interested in why Nathan’s Hot Dogs were better than the others further up the pier. My neighbor Eddie struggled to explain how his dogs were all beef, larger, and grilled. It was quite obvious that most of the visiting seafarers aboard the Kruzenshtern knew very little English. So a little later an older man approached the Russian with some questions about his vessel and thus began “the exchange.”

To be honest it was a bit humorous. From his reaction the old man obviously thought the young Russian knew more English than first thought. Yet the conversation continued for several more minutes. Neither one was going to let the language barrier interfere with their dialogue. Eventually there were hand gestures, nods of agreement, and even smiles that let me know that both had finally reached a common language of non-words. After a few more moments they shook hands. The old man wanted to take the young man’s picture in front of his ship and like all the rest of his shipmates, he obliged by putting his shopping bags down, standing at attention with his hands grasped behind his back. There was no doubt how proud that young sailor was of his sailing vessel. Funny thing, I immediately thought of Ben.

Just like this scenario, there is a communication barrier between Ben and the rest of the world, a wall that separates many exceptional children from others. Unfortunately most people aren’t like the old man, determined to break through the language barrier only to find a deeper form of interaction. Oh but for those that have the patience the reward is great. Just like the young sailor you get one proud individual and in Ben’s case you also get one huge smile as well.

To view some wonderful pictures of the Tall Ships leaving Charleston yesterday go here. 13 of the 18 ships featured at Harborfest are now headed to Boston for the next leg of the race. Look for them on TV this weekend as they parade around Boston Harbor.

Flood, Sweat, and Cheers

At the moment I'm in the camper riding out (another) late afternoon thunderstorm near Charleston, South Carolina. Although dry at the moment, it seems as if I've been soaking wet since I arrived Thursday either via one of these downpours or body sweat due to the high temperatures coupled with high humidity. Having spent a great deal of time down here during my life I find it quite fitting for an event called Harbor Fest.

I gotta admit that there have been moments the past few days when I've questioned my career choice and definitely my sanity. In the end the grueling work and harsh conditions were very much worth it. This was my chance to finally put my foot through the door of an area where I find great potential. When that door creaked open I kicked that sucker in!

Meaning to write a prequel let me say that this is the longest I will/have/am away from my family since I started selling my art full-time 5 years ago. When I return Sunday it'll have been 10 days since I've hugged Joan, stroked Jessie's long red hair, or puckered up to Ben's cute puffy cheeks. God, I miss them! But the sadness of separation has been tempered by the fact that this is now what I do for a living. And meeting sailors from around the world, many of them so surprisingly young, has made me appreciate the adventure I've embarked upon.

I won't bore you with details but at least let me summarize. Here's what has happened so far: setting up in the rain; seeing up close some of the tallest sailing vessels in the world; having dinner with a dear artist friend and laughing till we cried; enduring the absolute worst weather day since I started this - heat index of 110 with 80% humidity capped by closing my booth in a soaking rain - only to find I'd had by best single day of sales since last September; experiencing the most perfect day anyone could enjoy on the harbor; dolphins, pelicans, and Russians...oh my!; watching two stunt planes fly death defying maneuvers over us thereby increasing my "puckerabilty"; and realizing I had the best show of the year (so far).

Yes, I have pictures. And I also know that I owe our readers some fun photos of our vacation with the Peters. I promise to work on those very soon...like when I get back home...after my back and calves stop hurting. In the meantime, enjoy the above photo of The Spirit of South Carolina. She's the schooner that this past weekend's festival supports, one of many endeavors the Maritime Center supports while preserving South Carolina's rich maritime history. Hopefully tomorrow I'll get to report from somewhere near Southport, North Carolina.

How Bennie Got His Groove Back

This is Part One of what I expect to be a three-part blog series. Unfortunately, despite my good intentions, time did not not allow blogging from the road. I did have some opportunities that might have allowed me to do so but I instead took that time to hang out and meet some new family members artist friends who you will get to meet in Part Two.

In my honest opinion this was a "crossroads" weekend with a bunch of questions answered. Do I really want to work this hard for my job? Are you willing to be away from your family for a lengthy stretch of time? Does heat exhaustion and sunburn give you a good reason to point a middle finger to the sky? The resounding answer was "Yes!!"

The Savannah Fine Arts Festival ended so very fine; not just for me but for many of the other artists as well. Most of us artisans needed to know that art and fine craft is still celebrated in our nation. More importantly we needed to find out if the economy is truly making a comeback. Indeed if the next few shows coming up are anything close to this past weekend's then we're on the right track.

Despite weather conditions more like July than late April shoppers in Savannah acted like voters in Chicago: they came out early and often! Another good sign was the fact that there were plenty of tourists in town all four days of the event. All I can say is thank you Kenny, Felicia, and the Savannah Waterfront Association for hosting such a fine event.

Oh yeah, one other bit of news from the weekend that is somewhat noteworthy. See that image just below this post? The one showing the new little "mixed media" idea I'm starting to use? The abstract view of the Savannah skyline? It was chosen as the official design for the 2010 Fine Arts on the River, featured on t-shirts and any other advertising done for next year's festival. Oh how groovy it feels to have that groove back!

South Bound

I'll be leaving for Savannah a bit later today. It's a bittersweet feeling because I truly love doing those shows down there. The camping facility I stay at (Skidaway Island State Park) is by far the best I've ever camped in. The folks at the Savannah Waterfront Association treat their artisans extremely well - they are always helpful and supportive. And usually I have great customers and good sales there.

But this will one of the longest trips of the year for me. Four days without the family. Over one hundred hours without seeing Jessie and Ben. And of course, I worry about how the economy will affect the great potential this festival has to offer.

Even though it's only Wednesday it feels more like Friday. I have been painting almost non-stop for about two weeks and yesterday I spent almost the entire day updating my print selections. It's funny because I'm always paranoid that I don't have enough material before most shows. When I loaded the van this morning I was actually pleasantly surprised at how many original paintings I'm actually carrying with me!

For the first time I'll be carrying a laptop with me so I do plan on updating the blog during the weekend. Hopefully I'll have some time to catch up on my blog reading - I have a ton of favorite bloggers to catch up on! I'd also ask that those of you that do so say a prayer for success and safety while I travel. Even though I already have one show this season under my belt I still have some icky feelings left over from the Holden Beach incident last fall.

The above painting is new and incorporates a new process I've worked on during the winter. If you click on the image you can study it a little closer. Let's see how many of you can figure out what's different about it.

Broke, Broken, &
Out of Business

I'm physically ill looking at these photos from early yesterday morning. It would be easier for me to stomach had this been my own fault or "an act of God" which an assistant to the culprit mumbled to one of my friends today. But the truth is that my show year abruptly ended in the wee morning hours of Saturday because of the negligence and stupidity of another vendor.

Just before leaving the camper yesterday I noted a missed call in the middle of the night. I had left my card with the security officer, an off-duty police officer of Holden Beach, North Carolina. This has become a habit the past two years when rough weather is expected at a show. Generally speaking those guys and gals don't mind warning a vendor in the middle of the night of a potential problem. In my case there wasn't ever a chance for a warning.

Detective Hewitt had left me a message: "Mr. Waddell...another vendors tent has blown into yours and knocked it over." That is the quote verbatim saved to my cell phone. and I knew whose it was.

Ironically the last time I went back to check on my booth before turning in I struck up a conversation with the neighbor of the food vendor whose canopy crushed mine. Both of us were concerned that the food vendor made only a half-assed attempt at anchoring his canopy. We speculated that the winds would send it up and over his trailer and into the intercoastal waterway about 50 yards behind us. Unfortunately for me the wind direction changed during the next few hours.

There is more to this story that I'm just not ready to blog about. I've been told that the guy responsible does have liability insurance and they will soon be contacting me. In the midst of the ordeal I was threatened physical harm by one of the festival staff and my plight was belittled by the police officer who wrote up the report. I feel I have been violated to the core of my being. The situation could've and should've been handled much differently - with class and dignity.

We as a family are just devastated. The income from the upcoming shows was greatly needed but even if I could piece together some sort of display, I lost all of my prints and smaller originals. Even if I had the savings to purchase the materials I wouldn't have the time physically to complete the artwork. We're talking months of my work literally crushed and washed away because of a careless mistake by another.

I don't know what we are going to do. The anticipation of the probable fight with an insurance company is already making me so anxious that I can't sleep. Talk about someone needing a bailout - why does this shit keep happening to us? Seriously.

The food vendor's canopy is the blue & white one. They just slid the legs back on it and used it yesterday. Mine? A twisted mess. Notice there are no tie lines, tie-downs, or harnesses hanging from the food vendor's framework. That's because there were none.

This was my first view of my booth. The two upset down plastic containers in the lower left corner held (hold) my prints. You can see one of their tops under the other vendor's canopy. Notice the cinder block in the middle of my gear? That was one of three others I had added to my normal weight system. You can also see where I had tied the rear of my booth to the fence behind me. Of all the tents that were anchored to the fence mine was the only one destroyed much less actually damaged. It was also one of the most expensive which included a lower "Sta-Bar System" that virtually eliminates the threat of wind damage.

Holes riddle my side-walls. Many of the joints that hold the structural support system are broken. Note the one bent pole at the top right. After inspecting all of the framework this afternoon more than half the poles are bent.

The pole laying in front of my booth belongs to the other canopy. Note its thickness - about twice as much as mine. The whole framework is steel whereas mine is heavy duty aluminum. The destruction of my canopy was clearly not an "act of God. It was an act of stupidity and neglect by another vendor.

Beachy Keen!

We've been away for a few days of sun & fun. Well almost all of our family. Joan and the kids used my first Myrtle Beach Art in the Park weekend as an excuse for some much needed R & R. I have to admit that even though it was a work weekend for me it was great to have them along.

Despite some rather disappointing sales (we still made money and paid for the trip) the weather was perfect, the reunion with my beach artist comrades was quite fun, and Ben probably had his most enjoyable camping experience to date. Usually after a weekend crammed together in a pop-up camper we're all ready to get home. Not this time!

The biggest news came Saturday morning. My closest "carnie friend," Christy Buchanan called to inform me that she will featured in Southern Living magazine some time in the coming months! I think I expressed it best when I said, "Honey, you just hit the artist lottery!" For those of you not living in the South let's just say that Southern Living is to a Southerner what The New York Times is to a Donald Trump, what The Farmer's Almanac is to a farmer, what The National Enquirer is to Britney Spears, and what Martha Stewart Living is to...well...Martha Stewart.

We're all still in a bit of a shock around here. And as Joan told me, it couldn't have happened to a nicer or more deserving person. Christy has been through some rough times herself the past two years so I can't wait to post the link to the article.

Hopefully I'll be able to catch up on my blog reading over the next few days. Despite having a one-day show here in Greenville this Saturday (read about that here tomorrow) I won't be traveling again until late next week. I hope all is well in your lives. I look forward to catching up with what's happening around the blogosphere!

Whole Lotta Shakin' Part 2

When I got back to my booth I found Terry, the lady next to me, frantically trying to get her side panels under control. The velocity of the wind was literally ripping them off her canopy. In a sense it was making her entire setup act like a huge sail. Because she's a glass artist Terry was about to see her entire product inventory wiped out while taking her neighbors' work with it if her booth became airborne.

So ignoring the eerie mass of clouds approaching us from just over the Hyatt, each of the four vendors grabbed a pair of tent legs. If you look at the photo I was standing just behind the street lamp, Terry held her other front post along with her neighbor's, while the other two ladies manned the back legs with their backsides against the railing separating us all from the Savannah River. By this time the rain was coming down so heavily that it was actually stinging my skin.

I looked back toward the Hyatt praying I wouldn't see a funnel cloud. In the mean time Terry and her two "helpers" were trying to get as much of her glass work off of her display tables just in case we had to abandon ship. About the time I heard Terry yell "clear" I saw the first "tentacle" drop from the clouds right over the hotel. Three more shortly followed. Despite the fact that my rain-soaked hair on the back of my neck was standing up I couldn't move nor could I take my eyes off what was now a tornado.

The tentacles were moving extremely fast but none of them had yet reached the ground. The wind got very intense. I turned to Terry and the other ladies and yelled "F*** this!" We all immediately took off for the restaurant across River Street (note to Duane C. - it was Huey's) Terry and I stood in the lobby watching the funnel clouds pass above us. We could see a few EZ-Ups toward the Hyatt start to lift off the ground followed by the sound of breaking glass. I remember thinking how in the heck would we be able fish our gear out of the river afterwards?

The dark cloud quickly move on without ever touching down anywhere near us. Seeing the skies brighten I returned to my booth to survey the damage. Besides a lot of wet paintings the only thing ruined was a stack of about 150 business cards. My neighbors fared even better. Up the block toward the hotel several about 8 tents took a good beating but most of the vendors' merchandise was recovered. Paying $150 for another canopy is much better than having to recreate months of inventory.

The only injury was to a jeweler who cut her ankle on one of her display cases that fell and shattered. With the rain holding steady all of us decided to close up shop. It was interesting because many times when rain or weather ruins the day for us crafters the overall mood is one of anger. Not this day. In fact the load-out was rather quiet and uneventful. I think all of us realized how we were very lucky, blessed, or both.

Just in case I misinterpreted what I saw Saturday, I picked up a copy of the Savannah Sunday paper. Sure enough on the front page of section C (go to the bottom of the page) was a short blurb about the funnel cloud that never touched down. I can honestly say without a shadow of a doubt that is one weather event I never want to experience again!

A Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On

My latest trip to Savannah was reasonably eventful to say the least. And actually I am very glad I went despite the amount of rain that descended upon us yesterday. I came away from the weekend with only positive vibes and a renewed sense that I am doing what I'm supposed to be doing at this point in my life.

The epiphanies in life usually occur while facing trauma, fear, and hardships but not necessarily in that order. Most of the time however you can just rearrange those words and still make that enlightenment work. Such was the case yesterday. Let me back up a few days.

From two posts ago you regular readers know that I was distraught over my negligence of some paper work that made me miss out on a chance to do a 3-day art festival in Savannah, Georgia the first weekend of May. Just to refresh your memory my friends with the Savannah Waterfront Association were going to discuss some possibilities with me over the weekend of gaining entry to the show. As Saturday approached the weather forecast for eastern Georgia worsened. Despite the rainy prospects Joan and I both agreed that I should go just to show my determination for wanting to enter the May show.

When I left town on Friday the chance of rain was around 60 percent. Upon arrival at my usual camping area that percentage had increased to 90. Severe thunderstorms were now added to the mix despite the fact that Friday night I ate dinner on the veranda of a local diner watching the sun set in grand fashion. Let me now add a plug for Driftaway Cafe. I highly recommend the Parmesan crusted grouper over grilled asparagus and red potatoes with the featured Cormel Road Chardonnay.

At 6 yesterday morning I was setting my tent up in light drizzle. The weather was obviously the talk among the vendors yet most of us elected to set up anyway. By 9:00 the drizzle had turned to a steady rain but those of us familiar with southeast coast weather noticed the change in wind direction about the same time. All morning winds had been blowing from the southwest pushing the ugly clouds in our direction. Now the winds were coming from ocean, in an east to west approach.

By 11:00 the sun had come out and by noon we had mostly blue skies above us. We could see storm clouds north and south of us so most of us vendors were obviously excited. Around this time I talked with the staff of the show. It was obvious that there was nothing they could do to get me in the early May show but they had even better news! This past Friday they signed a contract to manage the applications and jurying Savannah's Memorial Day weekend festival. Because the I've been juried already I will now be in Savannah that weekend! During those three days they fully expect to have three to four times as many visitors to the river walk than the first weekend of May.

So with unexpected sunshine, a few sales, and an even better art show in May I was one happy dude! Even with a few more showers expected later in the afternoon what could possibly bring me back to Earth? Funny how I use that "floating on air" analogy.

Around 2:30 Kenny, the assistant director came by to warn us that a nasty little thunderstorm was about 30 miles west of us and headed our way. He didn't think it was severe but wanted us to be prepared. Sure enough about 20 minutes later the bottom dropped out of the sky. for those of you who've ever spent time on the coast during hot weather you know what those "frog stranglers" are like.

For the uninitiated the picture at the top was taken yesterday morning. The one to the right was taken in the middle of the monsoon. That is Ken who does some cool hand-made tepees for the young folks. Notice how the top corners of his E-Z Up are beginning to fill with water. It took the effort of both of us to push the water out of those pockets to keep the canopy from collapsing.

Early in my new career and after a handful of events on the coast I eventually invested about $850 in what is called a Trim-line Canopy. There are other variations on the market but essentially the framework is made of steel and the sides and tops are water-proof heavy plastic. There is no doubt that having my "big tent" saved the day for not only me but my two neighbors as well.

After the rain subsided I walked down toward the Hyatt (the big building in the top picture) to check on some of friends to make sure they survived the downpour. I noticed the skies were darkening but it wasn't until I was making my way back to my tent that I turned and looked back toward the Hyatt. The cloud canopy had turned a greenish black and it almost looked as if the sky was divided in half. The bottom half looked normal. The top half looked pure evil. I had seen this once before.

I started running back to my booth and began to yell almost uncontrollably "Get to safety! Now!" Vendors became frantic and once again began closing up their booths. I got back to my booth and told the two vendor booths next to me, three women in all, that we were probably going to see a funnel cloud drop at any moment. Sure enough the Coast Guard station blasted their siren almost as soon as I got the words out of my mouth.

Come back for Part 2 tomorrow.

My Achy Breaky Heart
(or How Hannah Montana Practically Ruined Thanksgiving)!

My own personal artist world tour is thankfully coming to a close this weekend. I head back to Savannah for a one-day gig to close out the year and the conclusion can't come quick enough. As I drove home from Greensboro late last night I tried to come up with a clever name for the Soulshine Studio 2007 Tour of Art Festivals. Given the cold rainy conditions, my exhaustion, and another disappointing show I figured "A Soulshiner in Need of More Moonshine" would probably work. If I print up the t-shirts I'll let you know.

The weekend started out decent. By the time I checked into the motel Thursday and set-up the booth I was honestly too tired to even contemplate missing out on a turkey dinner. I settled for some pot stickers and Southwestern Egg Rolls from T.G.I.F. Friday was pretty busy and turned out being one of my better starts for a three-day show. I was close to making expenses which was basically my goal for the day.

Saturday was a little disappointing but most of us figured shoppers were a little "hungover" from Black Friday. Like many other metropolitan areas malls and large chain stores opened up early Friday morning...as in 1:00 AM in some cases. I had one lady who needed three reminders of how much to make out her check for. This was early afternoon and she'd already been up for about twelve hours hitting as many shopping locales as possible. The positive vibe turned very sour late Saturday when word started reaching the vendors of the impending doom that was expected on Sunday.

The Greensboro Coliseum complex is fairly large. Essentially there is the arena with a large convention center adjacent to it. There is actually another large building on the site that resembles an aircraft hanger. It is quite common for these types of facilities to host several events at a time. In fact at several of the Gilmore Shows (the promoters of The Craftsman's Classics) I noticed other happenings taking place at the places they rented. This is usually a good thing since after a day or two of seminars or corporate training, the shoppers include those folks a little tired of motivational talk and just happen to be wearing name badges similar to ours.

Just like some of those other weekends we were going to have "neighbors" on Sunday....afternoon...before the show closed. This was not Dell computers hosting a sales training seminar or the local Elks Lodge hosting a reunion. It just happened to be Mylie Cyrus (a.k.a Hannah Montana) rolling into town for her fall concert tour. for those of you that might not have a daughter around the age of eleven, Mylie Cyrus is the daughter of country singer Billy Ray Cyrus who became famous for singing an absolutely obnoxious song sporting the world's worst mullet way back in the 80s. These days he and his daughter star in a Disney television sitcom called Hannah Montana.

Never missing out on an opportunity to roll in more barrels of cash Disney has sent Mylie out for her first world tour which coincidently happened to get booked in Greensboro, North Carolina for November 25, 2007. Thousands of little girls between the ages of 5 and 15 would be invading the Greensboro Coliseum on Sunday afternoon. Concert at four, ending around 6:15...the time most of us artists and crafters would be finished loading and ready to hit the road to head home. Just for shits and giggles, we also learned Disney would be setting up a pre-concert ramp-up event called "Mylie's World." Doors open at 1:00.

Needless to say none of us were happy and needless to say Sunday was a bust. Parking was at an all-time premium and attendance for our show was less than half the usual amount. After standing on concrete for 26 hours over three days, packing up the van with about 1500 pounds of gear, we then got to spend about an hour in post-concert traffic finding our way to the interstate in a constant drizzling rain. There were very few happy artisans last night.

There is plenty of blame to go around, mostly directed at the Greensboro Coliseum for booking this event during an annual holiday craft show weekend that obviously brings in a great deal of money to the local community. Despite the fact that the Gilmore family are very fine folks and probably meant well by making the most of a bad situation, they knew of the concert as early as September and never let any of us crafters who paid anywhere from $400 to over $1000 in booth fees know that our revenues were going to take a huge hit.

At least I can look forward to spending Thanksgiving with my family next year since I won't be back. It's unfortunate because I like the community and as mentioned the Gilmore family the weekend was more than just a disappointment. I only heard one person (who is not actually an artist) say that the Gilmore's "couldn't help what happened." It was the opinion of everyone else that I talked to that we should have been informed ahead of time of the complications we would face.

The good thing is that I am home safe and glad to be here. And the weekend was not a total loss given the opportunity to meet a very special family Friday morning. That is something that I'll be very happy to tell you about tomorrow! For the very first time I met another PKS family! the moment was ultra special and there are pictures to prove it! That is something I am looking forward to sharing.

ROAD LESS TRAVELED

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth

Then took the other as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet, knowing how way leads onto way
I doubted if I should ever come back

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood
And I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference

Robert Frost

It is good to be home. Obviously the wear and tear of traveling all year long and the physical nature of constructing then tearing down a booth 21 times this season has made me feel my age. I can report that I'm in a better mood this week. Sales weren't great but we had a decent show. I sold a couple of originals on canvas and a bunch of smaller works on canvas paper. Also I accomplished one of my goals for back to back shows in the same area: repeat customers! I'm certain we'll be able to feed the kids this week for a change and we might even get to pay one of our utilities. Good stuff, my friends....good stuff.

As you can see my newest bestest buddy came out to see me yesterday. Lindsay Ashman came with a purpose too. I mentioned last week in my first blog entry about her that she couldn't touch her toes. As you can see she proved me wrong.

Obviously getting to introduce her to several of my artist friends was the highlight of the weekend. Every now and then I get a HUGE reminder of why I love this profession I'm in. Part of it is the community that I travel with. As I introduced Lindsay to them, explained our new friendship, and mentioned her fund raiser I literally saw the light bulbs turning on. Every time I stepped back and let Lindsay do most of the talking (she discovered my penchant for wanting to be a part of the conversation unnecessarily). My friends were curious about her but phrased their questions in the most respectful and thoughtful manner. Since Lindsay will most likely read this I also wanted to mention how every one of them came to me after she left to say how impressed they were with her. Not just because she's a "special needs" gal but they actually see what Lindsay has been all along: passionate life-loving Lindsay Ashman.

These are the same folks that see Ben on occasion; he gets the same respect and response. I know the reason too: there is no fear of things that most people would label "not normal." Instead there is an appreciation for the courage and energy it takes to step out into the world just to say "this is me - I'm having fun, how about you?" I've known this connection for three years now and it all boils down to the artist and crafters' appreciation of creativity.

Every one of us has made the decision to unveil ourselves to the public in some form, way, or fashion. We create and let the public decide if the product is acceptable or not. The things we produce won't be carried into the afterlife (fortunately) but the way we choose how to deal with exceptional folks, special needs individuals, or people with challenges just trying to live life to its fullest have a life-changing opinion. Do you encourage and affirm that person or do you alienate that human being for being different?

I'm very proud of my artisan friends for appreciating the nature of Ben and Lindsay. They are both incredible individuals that deserve accolades. But they are also our friends, neighbors, church members, fellow shoppers, travelers of the Highway of Life. Their choice of roads was essentially made made for them. What is your choice?

Wonderfully Wired, Weary, and Woolly

It may take awhile to retell our adventure this past weekend. We went from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows and then returned to the highest of highs in a 48-hour period. All I can say is that even though we're glad to be home we already miss the great family experience we all had in Banner Elk, North Carolina. This past weekend will be remembered for many years to come - hopefully for Jessie and Ben, a lifetime.

The pictures of the mountainsides I will post in the coming days will not even come close to the actual beauty we encountered. Given the drought we've had here in the Southeast I fully expected to see very little color in the autumn landscape. Instead neither Joan nor I can remember a visit to the North Carolina mountains when the incredible array of colors were more brilliant and beautiful! Jessie even found the display breathtaking.

Other than a little windburn on the left of Ben's face he enjoyed the weekend as much as the rest of us. He was a trooper as we explored fun things to do when I wasn't working. It was also a time for many of our artist friends (family) to say farewell to Jessie and Ben until next Spring.

So tonight as we look over the names you guys and gals submitted for the contest we'll leave you with a video of Jessie (with the support of Joan who you mostly see) racing Hollywood (actually Woolywood) in her first ever Woolly Worm contest. He or she finished third unfortunately. Joan is wearing the pink shirt and sporting a visor. Mr Woolly Worm can be seen as well. I'm certain you'll pick him out of the crowd of folks on the stage. Enjoy!

Pedro Says to Read This Blog

Long before Napoleon Dynamite made him internationally famous, Pedro was splashed across billboards along I-95 from Virginia to Florida. South of the Border will sell you just about anything from pecan logs and fireworks to porno and genuine Cherokee Indian moccasins hand-made in China. Not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to also sell tourists a bunch of crap sentimental souvenirs local Myrtle Beach shysters entrepreneurs opened t-shirt outlets all along the Grand Strand. In fact there is about one every 1/4 mile on Highway 17 between Pawley's Island, South Carolina and Nags Head, North Carolina. They are only outnumbered by the amount of pancake houses along the same route.

Many of them remain open 24 hours a day ready to sell that tourist heading home a reminder of their visit to the Carolina coast. Besides the t-shirt (3 for $14.99) you can pick up a snow globe featuring an alligator, a hula girl that dances on your dashboard, and the aforementioned pecan log. Don't forget the firecrackers which are legal to sale but illegal to light up! And all of these establishments have catchy names like Eagles, Whales, Jaws, Wings, Kings, Zings, Things, and Gay Dolphin (I'm not making that up!) rather than more realistic ones like Cheesy Cheap Souvenirs, The Tourist Trap, Buy It or Else, or Stuff You Don't Need.

Back in my day it was shark's teeth that made me and my brothers drag our parents kicking and screaming into one of these tourist traps quality retailers. That and the latest t-shirt designs by the rock band, Kiss (how fitting). These days the magnets that pull kids off Ocean Boulevard isn't so scary. In fact they're quite gentle creatures. Right at this very moment there is some fool shopper getting a free Hermit Crab with the $25 purchase of a crab habitat (plastic box) and special crab food (dried vegetable matter - they also eat fish fecal).

So Friday morning I'm headed into downtown Myrtle Beach passing the International House of Pancakes, the National House of Pancakes, the House of Canadian Bacon, El Casa Soft Tortilla, and of course Kings, Wings, and Whales. As I approach Eagles my jaw drops. The sign off of King's Highway pointed to a charred blackened mass of rubble. Obviously a massive fire had recently destroyed this beacon of pure American love for cheaply made things from Asian countries. The pure scope of the economic loss amazed me. A wholesale inventory worth several thousand dollars but with a retail value of several million was completely gone.

When I got to the location of the show I asked a local about the fire. Was it an electrical failure? Perhaps a spark from some shopper sneaking a smoke? Maybe in the highly competitive business of selling snow globes at the beach someone stooped to committing arson to corner the market? It was none of the above. Some highly skilled iron-on transfer operator happened to leave a t-shirt on the heat press before leaving for the day. He remembered to lock up and take the deposit to the bank but forgot to turn the heat press off. How ironic (no pun intended).

It wasn't until later in the evening that the real tragedy dawned on me. All of those Hermit Crabs must've perished in that fire! Oh the inhumanity! After living their lives so close to pecan logs they never even had a chance to taste one (after finishing up their meal on fish fecal of course). I called Joan hoping for some kind words and solace as I pondered those tiny crustaceans suffering in a literal Retail Hell. It was at this moment that I was reminded once again how much she and I were meant for each other. After pondering the above information for a few quiet moments all she could ask was, "how many Hermit Crabs do you think it would take to make a decent crab cake?"

By the way, here are a few more things seen or experienced over the weekend:

1. Christian Tae Kwon Do. That was the name of the place or at least what the sign said. What's up with that? Meet Jesus or get a roundhouse kick to the face?

2. Mr. Sub. Another name on a business facade. I'm certain they are just a competitor of Subway and other local delis but the idea of a better business model occurred to me. Say you don't feel like going to work tomorrow. Just give a call to Mr. Sub. Don't want to attend dinner at the in-laws? Put Mr. Sub on your speed-dial. Of course the franchise would need to expand to Mrs. Sub establishments. Somebody's got to pick the kids up from soccer while mom is at the day spa.

3. Suck Bang Blow. That's the honest-to-God name of Myrtle Beach's most well-known biker bar. I have no idea how they came up with that nor do I want to speculate. All I know is that it's a "drive through" establishment. The place looks like an aircraft hanger from the outside and from what I've been told has concrete floors. Evidently bikers entertain the patrons by pulling their Harley's into the club and perform a burn-out...inside...a metal building....with concrete floors. My ears hurt just thinking about it. If Slick and KimmyK meet me there someday the shots are on me.