Charleston Why

Musings about Charleston SC

[lilbroc2000]

After 13 years of talking about going on a camping trip down the Edisto, we finally did it. #edistoriver 

[lilbroc2000]

Butcher & Bee & late night

Finally made it to the late night menu at Butcher and Bee. S and I were peckish after a night of mid- to high-brow Charleston activities including fancy wine at the Mini Bar and whiskey + jazz at The Mezz.

We split a roasted eggplant Bahn Mi which was tres bon indeed. The eggplant was slightly under cooked which was not necessarily a bad thing once you sort of got into it and opened to the experience of the full flavor of eggplant. The spice and the pickles and the cilantro seemed to occupy their own little zones which was something else that was interesting and good once your brain came around to the idea. Everything was very good but somehow didn't mash together. New perspectives! My dining partner and I pretty much inhaled the sandwich. Although it was a classic Charleston night with a moon, we decided to sit inside so that we could listen to the house music. I don't know if it was just the fact that it was so late or if I was projecting but there was a slight tinge of darkness in the atmosphere. It felt a little like a David Lynch film. The place had just the right amount of people. And people were talking. But something was slightly askew.

S was ready to go as soon as she took the last bite. 

Butcher & Bee, I salute you. "You stay alive baby, do it for Van Gogh."

[lilbroc2000]

Redux Redux

Went to an opening at Redux on Friday night -- Kate Nartker and Katy Crews: http://reduxstudios.org/exhibits/kate-nartker-and-katey-crews/

It was a classic Charleston summer night. Big, dramatic clouds. Warm, humid air. Everything was glowey and... magical. Stacy and I rolled up to Redux and were met by a smattering of cool kids hanging out in the parking lot. We walked in all smiles and with the satisfied, sightly righteous expression that comes from riding your bike (from your peninsular house). 

The scene inside was nicely balanced. Enough space to navigate but enough people to make it not seem embarrassing. Nick Jenkins was playing music that was perfect for the art -- clean, computer generated, witty, repetitive, but soulful. He had a symbol. 

The art? It was good. Sure, images of Lincoln have been done before but rarely on tapestry as far as I know. It was a nice mix of the old and the new. 

The people? I kept asking myself, who are these people? Back in the day, going to an opening at Redux was an event and I would invariably run into plenty of friends and acquaintances. At this opening, I recognized nobody. This was actually refreshing. And rare. This is Charleston afterall. This is Charleston?

After getting some surprisingly upscale Holy City beer, Stacy and I wondered out to the parking lot to get some air and perspective. We sat on a parking block and spoke little.  

[lilbroc2000]

Santi Santi Santi

Went to Santi’s last night. Classic Charleston night. Still warm but cool by comparison. I love that Santi’s is basically in my neighborhood. And I love that I tend to forget about it until it is just the right time to remember: Santi's? Yes! It is in the perfect Charleston spot. Right on the edge of the peninsula at that strange intersection of Mt. Pleasant, Meeting, and Morrison. So Charleston and not Charleston. The iconic Section 8 Apt. Building looms. The post apocalyptic woods on the backside menace. The secret Romney St. Apartments remain hidden. The outdoor seating is so wonderful. Somehow the road noises seem fitting. And amusing. I actually like that there are a few mosquitoes. 

Other than the chips, the food could be better. They could use less mayonnaise in the avocado salad. The re-fried beans could actually be tasty. They could feature local shrimp and tomatoes. But then, would it be Santi’s?

[discoveringcharleston-deactivat]

It’s interesting to start exploring a city through the music it produces, which is exactly what I’m doing in this moving transition from Louisville to Charleston. I’m no stranger to Charleston - I’ve lived here before - and the one thing that has always made me feel at home in this sweet...

[lowcountrydigitallibrary]

Man posing on bicycle.

“Unidentified man wearing a suit and hat poses on a bicycle. He holds a cigar.”

Photograph from the Miriam DeCosta Seabrook and Herbert U. Seabrook Papers, 1882-1995 held by the Avery Research Center at the College of Charleston.

[lilbroc2000]

Coming St. sucks

Coming St. sucks ass. At least for biking.

And the Crosstown is an abomination.

If I were supreme leader, I would get rid of the Crosstown and install a toll for all cars and trucks on all roads leading to the Peninsula.

[lilbroc2000]

Folly

After watching a commercial for Sonic, my son said, “you don’t know how much I want a slush with Nerds right now.” It was just after dark. I realized that I hadn’t made him any dinner. And it was another amazing late spring Charleston night. The new moon was surrounded in shimmery disk of light. It was breezy and felt like rain (but not rain). Although I am completely opposed to fast food and refined sugar, I inexplicably said, “well, let’s go.”

My kid is 15 and has his learner’s permit. He also has a ‘91 Ford Festiva which, as much as I hate to say it, is really fun to drive. It has a ridiculous glass packed “fart can” on the exhaust so it sounds loud and cool in an absurd way.

Also, I can not stand cars.

It was just one of those kinds of nights.

Being a passenger in a car driven by your young son is terrifying enough, but when it is dark it is… really scary. “I can’t even see the lane,” he said more than once.

We did survive the trip despite the kooky West Ashley intersections, lanes that suddenly become turn only, and the dreaded, “suicide lane.” 

Folly Road is a bitch.

Although we survived the journey back to the peninsula, my son nearly didn’t survive the blue, sugar water and gnarly cheese burger. I think I pretty much cured him of any fast food desires for some time. Don’t believe the hype.

[lilbroc2000]

[lilbroc2000]

Comedy Open Mic Night @ King Dusko

I went to the comedy open mic night at King Dusko yesterday. And… it was really great. When I was in middle school I pretty much memorized Steve Martin’s Wild and Crazy Guy album. When I was in high school one of my only social graces was to bust out with uncredited Steven Wright bits: “I have a huge collection of sea shells. ++pause++ I keep it scattered on beaches all across the world.” Ever since being devastated when I saw Steven Wright do a live performance that was almost exactly the same as the one that was on HBO, I pretty much lost interest in comedy. When some friends told me how bad the comedy was at the open mic at King Dusko, for some reason my curiosity was piqued. In fact, I actually wrote a little routine.

I wanted to check out the scene and get a sense of whether or not my stuff would go over. Thankfully they decided to have the show outside. The backyard is one of the things that I love most about King Dusko. And it was one of those perfect, late spring Charleston nights. Just a touch of cool and a just a touch of humidity. Plus a little, lilting breeze. The new moon had a beautiful, hazy glow. I don't know if my friends had gone on an off night of if I am just not that discriminating but I thought that the comedy was really quite good. I kept going back and forth thinking, “yeah, I can do this” to “oh my god, I am gonna bomb and it is going to be so painful.” There really are some talented guys in town -- all of the comics this night were dudes -- and really quite dedicated to the craft. Of course, about half of the audience was made up of comics and I imagine that it was more terrifying than most nights to be up on stage because there were no lights on the spectators. With lights blazing on stage, it must have been like performing comedy for the void. But, for the most part, everyone delivered. Even the older dude who had a rambling bit/story/joke with no punchline about a young woman interested in breaking into porn was brilliant in its own surreal way.

Check it out y’all. Every Wed. at King Dusko.

[lilbroc2000]

The thrill is gone

Like a lot of people, I was seduced by Charleston. The city had its hooks in me from the moment I descended the off ramp on to Meeting St. The slightly scary, dilapidated house, the Church’s Chicken, the obligatory, but really meaningless stop at the Visitor’s Center, the air, the way people walked, all moved me and made me dream of being able to move there one day.

In May of 2001 my dream came true. Although I was completely unprepared for the economic realities of the peninsula and the fact that I would have to live in West Ashley, I was still ecstatic. I was living in Charleston!

Over the last year or so, my romance with Charleston has lost some of its luster. In fact, it has lost a lot of luster. I don’t know if it is the fact that the city will take your bike if you lock it to a street sign on King Street -- what city does that??? -- or that fact that almost no one came out to see Sierra Leone’s Refugee Outlaws or the fact that the new Gaiillard Performance Hall makes me ill or just simply that, after 13 years, the thrill is gone.

This blog is an attempt to figure out what went… south and to possibly try to re-spark the allure. To try to find and remark on those wonderfully Charleston things that I may have been taking for granted: King Dusko. Xiao Bao Biscuit. The Bridge to Nowhere. Magnolia Cemetery. The color of marsh grass.  I have, some hope, that, if not passion, I will find companionship.