The British may have successfully established South Carolina’s first permanent settlement in Charleston (then called Charles Town, Charlestown), but the accent has been lost on the state’s present-day people.
After being stranded on I-95 in the middle of nowhere, we were rescued by a one-handed man who was irritated because he had misplaced his prosthetic hand. He wanted no help from us with the gas can nor did we push to help with the sound of bullfrogs resonating from deep in the woods.
South Carolina's Marshall Tucker Band from Spartanburg, SC
The man delivered enough gas for us to reach the next town, which we thought meant turning immediately off at the next exit. However, we discovered that exit led to nowhere but more unnerving darkness, so we quickly got back on the interstate.
At last, we saw lights appearing out of the woods up ahead in a town called Santee, SC.
In the heart of Santee were many full-service gas stations and fast-food huddle houses. The largest service station was open 24-hours. It was called Smith’s with a convenience store packed with fruit preservatives, pralines and slices of homemade jelly and maple syrup cakes like grandmother used to make, pre-packaged sandwiches, chips, Starbucks coffee and Cajun boiled peanuts and fireworks.
The store clerk was a woman who absolutely loved her job and all the out of state people she got to meet on their way to Florida. She encouraged us (me in particular) to browse the hundreds of souvenirs that gave the store a country store appeal. Though I felt like I was in a horror film as I walked down the aisles looking at the items and reading all the signs and one fast-moving roach I stepped on and killed.
I was not shocked or offended by a dozen black Mammies surrounding me down one aisle at 4 a.m. in the morning, but I didn’t buy or want any of them to take home.
I remembered blond David with the Italian last name I dated back in San Francisco who worked as an executive at CitiBank when I worked as executive assistant for an Italian-American senior executive president of California Retail/Personal Banking at Bank of America. David was...well...good-very good...but in David’s spotless cold-kitchen above the cabinet were these same black-face Mammies modeled with that same horrid rag tied around their heads. I giggled remembering how I pretended not to see David’s mammies. I couldn’t really look at them then except now I was looking at them without shame and as cheerful art.
Under the spell of those sexy MexicanS. I, so, miss the MISSION while here in Florence SC & the best Mexican Food in the United States is there in San Francisco's Mission District...so tonight, I re-created my own version of Mission District ...
The Church of St. Veronica on Christopher Street is a Roman Catholic Church in West Village that was slated to close in July 2017. The parish was founded in 1887 to accommodate the increased number of Catholics in the area, which had caused the Church of St. Joseph in Greenwich Village to become overcrowded; it was one of 99 new parishes created by Archbishop Michael A. Corrigan between 1887 and 1902.
While visiting the church I signed a petition to be sent to the Catholic Archdiocese of New York and to the Vatican to keep St Veronica open as a church.
The magnificent exterior of St. Veronica’s is landmarked.
Due to declining attendance in recent years, St. Veronica merged with a nearby parish. Before closure just two masses were being held at the church on Sundays: one at 10 a.m., followed by a Spanish Mass at 11:30.
Former churchgoers and community members are still fighting to keep the space alive and meet weekly to discuss possible futures for the church remain a community space.
In his closing words at last mass held in July, Monsignor Kenneth Smith, who pastored St. Veronica’s from 1990 to 2001, spoke of the AIDS Memorial that was established at the church in 1991. Along the base of the first balcony are hundreds of small plaques bearing the names of those who died. At a time when many churches were insensitive to those who died of AIDS, Smith opened the church to interfaith services with, as he put it, “Protestants, Jews and those without religion that we might say prayer before carrying the ashes to the river.”
Monsignor Smith recalled the hundreds of 9/11 survivors fleeing up the West Side Highway entering St. Veronica’s to find rest and solace.
There is also talk of trying to save the church as at least a spiritual space of some sort.
If I were very very rich. I would donate a smoother, luxurious mega-bus for the workers aboard this Pee Dee Area bus traveling from Lake City through Johnsonville and Kingsburg all in Florence county, then through Marion County where it stops twice so far en route to Myrtle Beach in Horry county on the coast of South Carolina. The bus also also travels through the Port of Georgetown, SC, which is the third oldest city in South Carolina after Charleston and Beaufort.
At exactly 7:09 a.m. the bus arrives Monday through Sunday at Kingsburg's Sam's Quick Stop and takes people, a majority of them African-American beach hotel workers to Myrtle Beach. Round trip cost is $10..
On the air-conditioned bus driven by a woman named Monica, 97% of the passengers have blankets pulled around them and are asleep and snoring.
Up Your Alley / Dore Fest aka Folsom's Street's DIRTY LITTLE BROTHER is much more Hardcore than Folsom Street Fair. It mostly all men and not for the faint at heart with few tourists snapping pics and just serious Locals into leather and BDSM...Performances in the alley will leave you...ahhhh...breathless, if not slightly erect and horny as hell...to rock the boat. Tickets for BAY OF PIGS dance event this Saturday night at Sir Francis Drake is completely SOLD OUT...
Who goes to the Up Your Alley Fair? Usually, around 15,000 leather men and fetish enthusiasts attend, making it a smaller, but more local event (read: fewer tourists) than the Folsom Street Fair. Attendees of Up Your Alley are almost exclusively male, mostly gay, into hardcore and BDSM, while Folsom is the more pansexual, gender-diverse fair.
When: Sunday, 30.July. 11am to 6pm
Where: On Dore Alley between Howard and Folsom, continuing on Folsom from 9th to Juniper and the adjoining block of 10th St. San Francisco
New York City becomes more beautiful each passing year that it is overwhelming trying to remember what used to be there instead of what's new.
Even in my first neighborhood where I stayed at West Side YMCA on West 63 Street at Central Park West, the street is so different than what I remember. Everything brand new. Even YMCA has upgraded its dull interior to a modern, exciting one with an array of brighter colours.
When I first stayed in this Upper West Side part of town the corridor at West 63 and Broadway and up to W. 64 Street did not have all the chic bars and restaurants and street table seating like now and as much noise and people and bustle than San Francisco's North Beach on a Saturday night. Across Broadway Lincoln Center fountains of recycle water rise and fall and the plaza is as busy as the corridor of stylishly dressed people that spill into Julliard School holding an event of its own that heavily guarded by boys in suits.
Do we love New YOrk? Yes, oh yes, we do.
I suspect some day it will be "our" home. The home of Charles and Sal...He the great photographer and engineer; Charles, the great author/storyteller. What he wishes happens for us. However, I am not so sure yet that I am ready to depart San Francisco permanently...
Manhattan's Theatre District late night is inspiring with bright lights and ads and news tickers of what's happening around the globe that don't quit. Even the McDonald's marquee takes on a glamorous appeal.
After an up in the air daredevil move on a busy inner city street crossing, a man lost control of his bike and slammed head-on into a parked van at the corner of Taylor at Eddy Street.
People of all colours and nationalities ran to help the man including drug users and dealers.
An ambulance was called by several people, which arrived abruptly, along with SFPD, to take the injured man away.
We are unsure what actually happened but our hearts hurt for the guy lying on the sidewalk in the heart of the Tenderloin on Taylor at Eddy. Apparently, he crashed his motorcycle into another vehicle at 1:03 PM or a vehicle shoved him into the white van in front of his damaged bike.
An ambulance has been called.
We hope and pray the guy will be OK.
New York Times editorial: Comey fired because of 'investigation that could bring down a president'
The New York Times in an editorial Wednesday said FBI Director James Comey was fired Tuesday because he was leading an investigation that could "bring down the president."
The editorial board said that by firing Comey, President Trump has "cast grave doubt on the viability of any further investigation into what could be one of the biggest political scandals in the country's history."
The editors dismissed the president's explanation for the firing and pointed to his past praise of the former FBI director.
"Of course, if Mr. Trump truly believed, as he said in his letter of dismissal, that Mr. Comey had undermined 'public trust and confidence' in the agency, he could just as well have fired him on his first day in office," the editorial said.
"Mr. Comey was fired because he was leading an active investigation that could bring down a president. Though compromised by his own poor judgment, Mr. Comey’s agency has been pursuing ties between the Russian government and Mr. Trump and his associates, with potentially ruinous consequences for the administration."
The Times editorial board said the FBI is conducting the only "aggressive effort" into any ties between Trump's campaign and Russia.
Now, the need for a special prosecutor is "plainer than ever," the editorial board said.
In between the shows at PianoFight, the piano man played and played his heart out. One tune after the other, his head turning and nodding to every beat.
"Play it again, Matt," I said, just learning his proper name. How fitting, I thought, he is a Matthew like my PaintedPeopleStory's Matthew Rae. My Edge of Night piano man. My party social crowd had already departed by now. One set, a couple, were off to view their new place just rented on lower Nob HIll's Bush Street. They, two men as a couple, were tired of living with other roommates and wanted to be in their own home. JD would tell an engaging story about finding her apartment that she's been in since 1992 that we will always remember and apply to our own lives. HC had just one cocktail as she stipulated and left shortly after an hour was up just as she said she would to her NOPA apartment shared with 5 other girls. And I, was suddenly left alone with the piano man and Turtle at the bar who bought me a drink, and he expected to stay to late. A good day, I thought, since JD paid for all our drinks and appetizers as well. Thank you, JD. But suddenly, I felt sad and kind of alone and thought of SKA and so wished he was here...
Matt looked over, smiled and struck the keyboards as he bounced and tapped his feet and swayed into the music and I applauded..