Cherished dreams come true on the honeymoon ...

Day One of our first road trip as a married couple and we've made it to Santee, SC on the southern shore of Lake Marion. The farther south we have gone the greyer and colder it has gotten so we're thinking we may end up buying parkas in Sarasota!

For years I've wanted to stop and visit SOB, NC - otherwise known as South of the Border - a holy repository of everything Most Tacky and Culturally Stereotypey and today we did. We started seeing the road signs 150 miles away and as we got closer the excitement built. As we rounded a corner of I-95 Pedro's Tower came came into view and I burst into repeated cries of OMG OMG OMG. Frank slowed the vehicle so that I could collect myself before descending in the Tackiest of Tackies, home to my lovely bile green coffeemug with bas relief rendering of Pedro!

Oddly enough there were very few people at SOB but that didn't stop us and we darted out of the car to stand in awe in the middle of Pedro Plaza gazing at the South of the Border motel, fireworks stand, ice cream shop, reptile farm and more and more and more. On the other side of SOB street were more shops and the vaunted 6 foot tall Pink Flamingos. We were drawn ineluctably towards the welcoming doors of the SOB emporium, t-shirt store, and ashtray and coffeemug storehouse and general storehouse of everything loudest, brightest, least tasteful, and most endearing.

In minutes I had more precious treasures than my hands could hold and, dropping yellow and green plastic pineapple soda holders as I walked, I called for help. A gracious retailperson sprinted to my aid and I dumped what I already had in the emerald green plastic basket and continued excavating more treasures: place mats and coasters in unearthly shades, Pedro snowglobes, ashtrays, and more that can't be shared in a primetime generally public blogpost. At the money shrine I duly handed over my poor monetary offerings for the treasures I had found.

As Frank dragged me sobbing into the waiting carriage, our Giant Gorilla friend waved a hearty goodbye. I cried out that I would return, I would return, and he nodded sagely (I think).


And so we drove away from the blaze of glory into the gathering gloom of a South Carolina unrepentant winter. I looked once more over my shoulder and saw it again.the High Holy Place of Tack: South of the Border!