Roadtrip: Myrtle Beach 2010

After working our tails off for the past couple of months, Harris and I needed a break. The annual Public Defender's Conference in Myrtle Beach sounded like just the ticket. Pancake houses, cheap T-Shirt shops and Calabash shrimp galore. The weather as Lady Di and I left the Boro was abysmal. Naturally, the Horry County Chamber of Commerce would make sure we wouldn't encounter anything like that up the coast, right? This was what it looked and sounded like:




Diane and I dealt with the weather the way one is supposed to deal with such things: we went to a Mexican Restaurant. She got a margarita. I opted for something a bit more adventurous. The waitress told me that many Mexican men drank a combination of tomato juice, lime, spices and beer called a michelada. Fizzy tomato juice. Ugh! I didn't order a second one (My fish tacos were pretty good, though).

The next day I set out for the Public Defender's Conference. We weren't the only game in town. There were bunches of groups about. Various nurses and police squads mingled with "The Southern Society of Electroneurodiagnostic Technicians". Hey, I'd've joined; I just forgot to get my paperwork out... Oops! Don't want to go in here. Not after the michelada incident the night before.

Cash bar for the perinatal crowd? Does your doctor know about this? Waddya mean that IS your doctor? Better not let those Church Ladies find out!

That rain was awful. The tennis courts didn't get much action...

...but at least the tennis courts were open. How bad does a storm have to be to close down an indoor pool?

Lady Di figured out the best use of our time there.

On Tuesday afternoon, we had a few gorgeous minutes at Sunset, before the rain started up again.

Not a lot of toys this year. Usually the conventions are filled with vendors selling services and books. One book vendor and the South Carolina Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers was it. I went to Myrtle Beach, and all I got was this crummy squeeze ball.