SE U.S. Travel

Posted by Linda J Bottjer

The beach. It is many things to many people.

Some come to lie on the sands and brown the skin. Others come to frolic in the waves or paint inspired scenes.

Still others barely pick up their heads for they are beachcombers. Diligently traversing past more boisterous beach goers, patiently picking through the remnants of shells left by the surf all in the hope of discovering that perfect shell. To some it is the wide top of a conch that spirals down to a fragile narrowness or a scallop shell with its delicate edges intact and not chipped.

Then there are those who come to the shoreline for solitude. I am one of those.

We bring our problems - some heavy like cancer has struck my family again or others as light as "should I wear the 2" or 4" heels on my date tomorrow night?"

The enormity of the situation does not matter - the ocean accepts them all.

Some write in journals, others send silent prayers into the pounding surf.

Me?

I take a shell and write out my upsets in the sand.

There is no spell check and punctuation is not a prerequisite...I just write.

Sometimes a curious person wanders over while I am bent over and in the midst of sand scripting. But usually people recognize the motion and keep a respectful distance.

Now they might run over and read my sagas when I am done – I have no idea.

For it is my practice that once the epic is completed I toss my shell “pen” over the shoulder and I walk away.

I have left the problem for something far greater than myself to handle.

For the tides will ebb and flow as will my worries.

Posted by Linda J Bottjer

Last weekend I had the privilege of attending the North Carolina Jazz Festival, and hearing greats like bassist Herman Burnley, vibe man John Cocuzzi and others. A few days later I had delightful lunch with Sandy Evans the energetic organizer of the event.

We spoke on the throngs of volunteers who are the backbone of such festivals, and the importance of getting a community behind an event.

And it made me think - how many of us pay attention to the events, attractions and cultural events in our own hometown?

When was the last time any of us took a Sunday afternoon and just browsed a local historical site or museum? Many offer resident discounts or are free on certain days.

Is live music a component of area restaurants and clubs? Do you frequent them, and show your support for someone who makes their living by being creative? What about attending local theatre? OK the quality might not be the same as Broadway or the West End - but I can guarantee the spirit is greater and the ticket price is a fraction of the $100.00+ range. The same applies for local symphonies, operatic organizations and even a kazoo band.

When you buy art are you going to galleries that feature local artists?

Don't feel guilty for you are in good company. I am just as guilty. It’s been a couple of years since I've attended the Bluegrass Jams that occur every Thursday night near me.

So let's meet back up here in a few months, and discuss who and what we have seen in our own close proximity.

Posted by Linda J Bottjer

This past weekend, I was on assignment covering an artist appearing at the North Carolina Jazz Fest. While that event and the people connected with it were absolutely wonderful - I was doubly blessed with the opportunity to stay on Carolina Beach.

The beach in February, you might ask?

Yes. And it too was fantastic.

Granted instead of a bathing suit I had sweatshirts, Crocs with socks replaced flip flops and a hat for warmth, and not sun protection, rested on my head.

I also brought along my trusty bike, and after a hearty breakfast at the Microtel Motel - where I learned I had a gift for waffle making at the continental breakast - I headed a few miles down the road to Fort Fisher.

There I buzzed by the Atlantic as its surf crashed along the large rocks. Its unceasing power encouraged me to take the bike trail which snaked past the Aquarium and letout by the Southport bound ferry doc k, I pedaled on to the tip of the island where a lonely windswept marker denotes one of the final "nail in the coffin" moments for the Confederacy.

Trees twisted by frequent storms provided photographic moments as fresh smells of salt and sweet juniper highlighted the ever presence of nature.

With the afternoon temperature hovering in the low 60's and the sun set in a bright blue sky I gave into a secret love of mine - kite flying. Soon I had both my deltas dancing in the ocean breezes high above the golden sands.

A winter wonderland without the snow....and the crowds.

Posted by Linda J Bottjer

See what happened?

With fewer Europeans hitting our shores and converting much needed foreign currency into our feeble dollar bills – some Americans have turned to drastic measures for revitalizing our tourism market.

Say hello to Stephenville Texas, a small farming community about 80 miles southwest of Fort Worth. I’ve never been to the town – but having once lived in the Lone Star State I would probably not be amiss in saying it is a place where God and high school football rule. Where people still say “please” and “thank you”, and the only time a hand is raised off a steering wheel is to send a friendly wave to the family and acquaintances one encounters enroute to the local Piggly Wiggly.

So these folks aren't crazy!

Recently a rash of responsible, and normally rational, people reported a seeing a flat metallic object hovering in the dusky twilight sky.

Where government officials pooh- poohed the notion of alien visitors local businesses jumped at the potential tourism gold mine.

Imagine the virtually untapped market as... a landing strip for UFO’s.

Genius!

Perhaps a Martian space cowboy requires a makeover? Head him/her or it over to RP’s Western Outlet, produce some ID (hope its’ nothing deadly to humans), and wrangle new duds at a 25% savings.

Spaceship kaput? No worries – the 7H Bar Auto Ranch has skilled mechanics for any engine upset.

While a Washington Redskins fan might get the odd look, at the Bull Nettle Bar and Grill, an Asteroid Belt resident is always welcome to quench its thirst by tipping back a cool longneck.

Problems parallel parking a large stardust covered craft? The back lot at the Chicken Express is open.

Who would not want to visit a place with a sense of humor?

Posted by Linda J Bottjer

As you might know - Ali, Baba and Baby are the three alligators that live in the canal outside my home.

They alternately frighten and fascinate me.

So the other day, at dusk, when I noticed a large ring of water disturbing the normally placid waters I thought one of the three had caught dinner.

Then something dark and slick popped up and darted quickly back under the surface creating an even wider circle. Whatever it was it was moving tremendously fast, and I could follow its air bubbles as it zigged and zagged the entire canal. By now I was tracking it with the binoculars.

What was it?

Not an alligator.

Had Nessie left Loch Ness?

Nope.

It was a river otter.

I have only seen them on nature programs - but never in real life.

They are big! About 4' (1.2192 meters)

This animal was having a great time just barrelling through the water, bobbing up, flipping around and zooming to the other shore. I could almost swear he/she (?) had a smile on its face.

It was a wonderful thing to witness.

Posted by Linda J Bottjer

I live off a very small man made canal. Recently a canoe with a couple and two young children paddled by. I noticed the kids (approximately 2 and 3 years of age) were not wearing life jackets, had their little hands slapping the water's surface and the family was heading directly for alligators' (3 in total) den.

I advised them of their approach to possible disaster, and was rewarded with looks of disdain (like I was the village idiot waving on the side of the road) and a halfhearted "thanks".

The slapping of water is like a dinner bell to gators. They hope to find an animal in distress, and lend a helping jaw.

The intrepid, yet stupid (counting the adults only) family paddled down the narrow right fork.

Within minutes I saw the baby of the gator trio cruising the canal. Baby is now close to 6' in length. With his instincts revved up, he hid among the shore's foliage and readied himself for an attack.

The canoe reappeared. Once again tiny fingers flicked the water.

And Baby?

His sinister scaly snout had disappeared under the waterline.

"Get those hands inside the canoe," I screamed.

The parents barely acknowledged my calls of warning.

In frustration I yelled "Will you be able to call 911 after the gator leaps up snatches your baby? A large man was killed here (a few canals away) last year. Your children would be just an appetizer."

Suddenly little hands and arms were yanked in, and paddling went into overdrive.

Baby resurfaced and shot me a nasty look at his missed meal.

My point is - wear life jackets, learn the local rules of nature and respect them.

Linda, Protector of the Incredibly Ignorant, cannot be everywhere!

Posted by Linda J Bottjer

So let’s wander to South Carolina and see what the pantry holds.

Yum, yum - lotus chips are the first item for our enjoyment.

Flour based and available in a variety of flavors, it was at the insistence of her family and friends, addicted to the original sesame taste, that lead Jane Burns to partner with Harriett Kinard and begin Lotus Chips, LLC.

Savor the flavors, five in all, from the sweetness of cinammon sugar to the zesty flair of rosemary and balsamic vinegar. Tomato basil and Tropical (pineappke and cream cheese) round out the line-up.

A scant 8 years later – the distinctly packaged chips can be found in many specialty markets nation-wide.

Crunch away.

Also providing some crunch appeal are gourmet goobers from Charleston’s own – Tony the Peanut Man.

A fixture all over the town – he attracts peanut fanatics and about to be goober nuts with his sense of style (he wears a snappy hat and occasional bow tie), his sense of fun (just ask the simple question (“what kind of peanuts do you have” and stand back) and mostly with the taste of his delicious boiled peanuts

You can find his products at area Harris Teeters and Piggly Wigglies or via email.

Good eating can be yours.

Posted by Linda J Bottjer

Sweetlips, Tennessee supposedly got its name when a returning Confederate soldier bent down over a running creek, scooped up some water and declared it sweet to his lips.

Probably the person who drank from Kentucky’s Laurel Branch stream did not have the same lovely experience. The nearest settlement is called Tacky Town for reasons unknown.

Near Pecan Gap, Texas (a colorful name on its own) is Jot ‘Em Down. Little remains of the small community, which took its name from a 1930’s radio show. In fact whenever the State Highway Commission has erected signs marking the town – they are often stolen the same day.

Forty miles north of Houston, an early confrontation among church folk lead to their town being called Cut and Shoot.

Oklahoma seems to have a thing for towns describing the way a person’s looks. There is Greasy, Bowlegs and Bushyhead.

To be fair – Okies are also literary minded with the towns of Welty and Seqouyah and Arkansas gives homage to Hardy and Fitzgerald while Louisiana rounds it off with Joyce and Homer.

In the Deep South – deep hues rule with Mississippi’s Ecru, named after the post office was freshly painted and Moss, located north of Hattiesburg.

One does not have to imagine far on the identity of the local pests in Gnatville, Alabama or Sandfly, Georgia

Fiddlesticks, Florida off the Gulf of Mexico and near Fort Myers was not musically named. Instead the word refers to golf clubs, and the private course there.

In South Carolina – the town of Cheddar is pronounced SHED-ur. Now I’ve been through the state’s Moncks Corner quite a few times but have yet to see any sandaled, coarse robed guys standing by street intersections.

But then again I was headed for Meat Camp NC, and probably hungry for lunch.

Posted by Linda J Bottjer

How different are we?

Two weeks ago standing aside a raw, wind-whipped, rain sodden rugby pitch in Cambridge, England I realized British rugby fans are much like most American baseball fanatics. Heartily they rooted for their home team, and yet graciously acknowledged a display of athletic supremacy even from the opposing side.

In London, under terrorism threats – people pursued their pre holiday traditions. Stores, public transport, restaurants, and especially sidewalks, were crowded with a joyful humanity. Was this any different in New York, Caracas, Berlin or Tokyo? I doubt it. Life goes on.

With the shortened daylight, encompassing Reykjavik, Iceland this time of year, cozy candlelight glowed from meeting rooms and bistros and welcomed both Icelanders and foreigners into this season of love. Similar scenes can be found around much of the globe right now.

Suddenly I flashbacked to the summer of ‘64.

The World’s Fair came to New York, and Walt Disney debuted It’s a Small World and its catchy melody to all nations. It was the #1 attraction to this then seven-year old visitor. Now 43 years later – the song’s lyrics resonate with significance.

Do you remember them? Feel free to sing out loud.

It’s a world of laughter, a world of tears.

It's a world of hopes, and a world of fears.

There's so much that we share that it's time we're aware.

It's a small world after all.

So wherever you are right now – be you Christian, Muslim, Jew, Hindu, Buddhist, Sikh or the biggest atheist on the planet - please accept my thanks for sharing your world with mine.

Forget the naysayers.

Working together - we can still make it a better place.

Posted by Linda J Bottjer

Favorite beaches

Gulf of Mexico

Padre Island National Seashore/Texas

Great place at night to put your beach chair just partially in the water, have the surf lap at your toes, and contemplate the thousands of stars in the sky.

Venice Beach/Florida

Where else can you find shark’s teeth along the water, and wait for the sleeping homeless to vacate the beach benches?

Atlantic Ocean

Cape Hatteras National Seashore/ The Outer Banks - North Carolina

Some of the greatest sand dunes in the world, and a place to forget civilization is close by

Favorite Mountain Ranges

The Blue Ridge/Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee and Georgia

So much scenery you need extra time while traversing it just to stop and enjoy it.

Guadalupe Mountains/Texas

In the corner of West Texas, near the New Mexico border it is a study of contrasting nature. Hike McKitterick Canyon in the fall where the color of the changing leaves just radiate.

Favorite restaurants

Zydeco Grill and Compadres/Englewood FL

Who thought the best of N’Awlins and Guadalajara could be transported so effortlessly to the beach community of Englewood? Yum yum!

The Pilot House/Wilmington NC

On the banks of the Cape Fear River, she is reminiscent of gracious Southern living without the overpowering bouquet of moonlight and magnolias. The food is traditional with innovation as its major ingredient. Their baked oysters tucked in with collard greens, country ham, bleu cheese and pecans….oh Lordy!

Gadsby’s Tavern/Alexandria VA

The genteel atmosphere of gleaming candlelight, soft 18th century music, superb service and delicious fare make this a must do on any Northern Virginia or Washington DC itinerary. The fact that it was a favorite of George Washington’s only adds to its colonial charm.