South Carolina - Day 2 - Revolution

3/27/16 (Easter), “Revolution”

Columbia Metropolitan Airport, South Carolina (CAE)

My time in South Carolina has come to an end, and I am already thinking about when I can plan a trip to Alabama, which would be the last state in the South where I haven’t properly visited yet (I had breakfast there one morning when I was 16 as part of our Tennessee trip).  I love the South.  I really do.  “Backwards” the liberals back home call it.  There is nothing backwards about this part of the country.  It is just a simpler part of the country, with a simpler way of living, with simpler values.  It is a place where the dreams of our Founding Fathers still live.

I will discuss more the idea of the Revolution (and the Rebellion) in my reflective entry from the plane, but today was spent almost entirely exploring Revolutionary War battle sites.  It was a rush to fit all three in and make it to the airport in time.  The absolute latest I could have left the hotel was 7:30 AM if I wanted any reasonable chance of making all three sites and getting back to the airport in time for my flight.  I had hoped to be on the road by 6:30 AM, though.  That didn’t happen.  I almost fell asleep at the cigar store last night, and he didn’t kick me out, letting me finish my cigar while he cleaned up.  I took an Uber back to the hotel, ate my cannoli, and collapsed.

I woke up a little before 6 AM, which was too early.  I couldn’t get back to sleep.  I finally got out of bed around 7 AM, and I was still exhausted from last night.  I was still full from my large and late meal last night.  I would not be stopping at the Waffle House.  I think it was 7:40 AM when I left the hotel.  Fuck.  I was also dead tired, almost falling asleep at the wheel.  I had lit up a Centurion for the ride, and after I ditched it, I stopped at a gas station to rest my eyes for a bit and get some coffee, having forgotten to take the free coffee from the hotel this morning.  That helped.

I got to the first site, Kings Mountain National Military Park a little before 10 AM.  I could work with that schedule.  I’d have half an hour at each site, and 4 hours of driving, which would get me to the airport at before 3:30 PM for my 4:35 PM flight, assuming everything went right.  I told the ranger my plan, and he seemed doubtful I could do that.  I’ve heard that before.  I will refer my readers to a Google search for the details of these battles, but the battle at Kings Mountain was an important victory for the American Patriots against the British Loyalist forces.  I lit up a Fratello for the work around the battlegrounds and took my ceremonial pictures.

I then headed to the next battlefield, Cowpens National Battlefield.  That was an even more important victory for the Patriots, and it lead to the end of the British control of the South.  I walked around a bit, continued my cigar, and took my ceremonial pictures, the same thing I do at every NPS.  I had been to 244 of them by that point.  Then I was starting to get hungry, and I was running low on gas.  The timing was tight, but I was still on schedule.  I stopped at a Citgo to get gas, along with a corn dog, chips, and a Diet Coke.  It was raining on and off all day, and I wasn’t really in the mood for a cigar for the drive.

I got to the last site, Ninety-Six National Historic Site a little before 1:30 PM.  It would be an hour and a quarter to the airport from there, which meant I could spend half an hour at the site, and I would be at the airport at 3:15 PM, assuming everything went right.  I did my business in the VC and started walking the trail, lighting up the Cohiba my sister-in-law had gotten me from her trip to Cuba.  This was it.  It was the last NPS in South Carolina for me.  The Patriots lost the battles here, but it had set the seeds for their later victories at Kings Mountain and Cowpens, and we won the war.  All’s well that ends well, I guess.  When I got to the main field, I took my ceremonial picture, and announced, “South Carolina, wait for it,” pausing to take an Official sip of water, “Complete.”  Then asking myself (out loud) how and when I could go to Alabama.

I got back to my car a few minutes after 2 PM.  It was just over an hour to the airport.  I was on schedule to get to the airport right at 3:15 PM, assuming everything went right.  Alright, enough with the suspense, everything went right, I got to the airport right on schedule.  I dropped off the car and checked in.  I then headed out to the smoking bench, where I had some marshmallow Peeps (four bunnies), lit up a L’Atelier, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can head through security and to the gate.  I will do the reflective entry and properly close out this trip on the plane.

Aboard DL 5569, En route CAE-LGA

The American Revolution was not about tea, no more than Civil War was about slavery.  Everyone gets the first part of that, they understand it was about wanting our independence?  Or was it?  No, it was not.  The American Revolution was about us wanting representation in British Parliament.  “No taxation without representation.”  Remember that?  It wasn’t, “No taxation.”  It wasn’t, “Free tea for everyone.”  It was, “No Taxation WITHOUT REPRESENTATION.”  That is why it is inaccurate to talk about how we fought off the British or the misquote, “The British are coming!”  The colonists were British.

That is why the terms Patriots and Loyalists are more accurate.  One side, the Patriots, wanted their independence, after other methods had failed, and the other side wanted to remain loyal to the Crown.  This had nothing to do with tea.  The tax was a small tax to finance, I believe, the French-Indian War that was fought to protect British colonists.  The colonists just wanted to have representation in Parliament to make sure their tax was fair.  That was it.  They didn’t get it.  They went to war.  If they could have remained part of the British Empire (like Canada did), they would have, so long as they could have had representation in parliament.

The Civil War, likewise, was not about slavery.  President Lincoln himself said he would have been okay with letting slavery continue if it meant peacefully holding the country together.  “A house divided against itself cannot stand.”  That was the problem.  Slavery was too divisive of an issue for our country to remain whole, half slave, half free.  There was no solution.  We are seeing a similar division now, but it is not a geographical division.  It is, for the most part, an urban vs. rural distinction.  The biggest difference between the so-called red states and blue states is that the blue states have larger urban populations.  Atlanta is much more a blue area than upstate New York.

This latest campaign cycle and the issues I have addressed earlier have been more divisive than anything since the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s.  As I mentioned yesterday, this new liberal agenda, calling people bigots on a prima facie basis, is as divisive as anything done by the right.  Slavery has ended, and we have full equal protection under the law for all minorities.  The liberals now want to set their sights on racist thoughts, having successfully banned racist acts.  While I fully condemn racist acts, and I do not condone racist thoughts, I either more strongly condemn what the left is doing right now.

The spirit of revolution lives on in the South, and to call someone a bigot without fully understanding them or where they come from or why they think the way the way they do is as prejudiced as what the liberals are condemning.  The spirit of rebellion lives on in the South, too and I am seriously concerned where our country is heading.  Since we do not neatly fit into geographically-based ideologies, there could not be a civil war, but if the actions we have recently seen in Nevada and Oregon are any indication, we are heading towards a very bad place.  I fear that Mr. Trump has gotten much more right than he got wrong.

Progress can only be built on cooperation.  It cannot be built on division.  Progress cannot come about by using terms like “bigot” and “homophobe” to condemn anyone with whom you disagree.  We are moving backwards in this regard.  Our Founding Fathers had it right, and those on the left would do well to better follow their examples.  Otherwise, we may very well see another revolution, and not the type of revolution that Senator Sanders mentions.  That is not a revolution.  That is tyranny in sheep’s clothing.  I will briefly pause now to have my in-flight snack before I do my more personal reflections on the trip and the South in general.

I have been to 49 states.  Of those, I have slept at least one night in, I believe, 46 of them.  The exceptions being Alabama, Oklahoma, and West Virginia if memory serves me right.  I have been to every region of the country, other than, of course, Hawaii.  I have thoroughly explored every region of the country.  From sea to shining sea, I have seen America the beautiful.  Why then does the liberal media in the Northeast think it is completely appropriate to denigrate one or more of those regions?  Reader, the feeling is mutual.  That is why Senator Cruz knew it would be an effective campaign tactic in some parts of this country to criticize Mr. Trump for having “New York values.”

The South is one of my favorite regions, though I do prefer the scenic beauty of the Pacific Northwest, and I’m kind of fond of all the states that border Canada, actually.  If you work in a newsroom in a big tower in Manhattan and have never driven through the country roads south of the Mason-Dixon Line, you don’t get to criticize the values that Mr. Trump’s supporters in this region hold.  You just don’t.  I love driving those country roads, seeing the tiny houses on the big plots of land.  It reminds me of a simpler time, and, with simpler times, come simpler values.

I have been light on the domestic travel of late.  Since the Last Great Summer Road Trip adventure I took with my mother in July, I believe I have only been on five domestic trips, oh, six, my brother’s wedding Oregon.  The other trips were two in the Northeast with my friends, both of which were driving trips starting in New York, one to New Jersey and Pennsylvania, the other to Connecticut and Rhode Island.  All blue states, all as liberal as they get.  I then took trips to Atlanta, not leaving the city, the very blue city, and South Florida, again, very blue.

Reader, do you see where I am going with this?  Not since Montana over 8 months ago have I been somewhere that votes red.  That’s a long time to be surrounded by liberals.  My values are mostly conservative, so it bothers me to see liberals attack conservatives as brutally as bigots attack minorities.  Why are the attacks instigated by the liberals condoned?  Well, having been in blue areas for the past 8 months, I never gave it much thought.  Now I am starting to realize the irony.  Next weekend will take me to the thoroughly purple state of New Mexico.  After that, my domestic travels will bring me to Philadelphia and perhaps Maine in June.

I will go to Texas with my mother in October, and I do not know when I would go to Alabama, but it would not be before then.  That means it’ll be 6 months before I set foot in a red state again.  That’s a long time.  I have an exciting summer of international travel ahead, including Rio and Rome.  It’s just a shame that I am running out of domestic sites to visit.  When I set out to see the world, I guess I knew I’d very quickly run out of domestic destinations.

Okay, so, um, I almost missed my flight.  After I closed, I figured I could smoke until 4:05 PM and then head to my gate.  Well, I meandered, and I stopped at the gift shop, and security took longer than I expected, even though there was almost no line.  It was like 4:18 PM when I finally cleared security.  They close the gate 15 minutes before departure time.  That meant I had two minutes to get to my gate.  It was a tiny airport, so that was no problem.  I went to the board, and my flight’s gate was not listed.  Uhhhh.  I figured it was delayed or something.  I went to check out the airside gift shop.  Then I heard it.  They were announcing the final boarding call for my flight, at Gate 8.  I ran to the gate, and they asked me if I was Margolin.  I told them that I was.  They said they had put someone else in my seat and could give me the exit row, which had two open seats.  Perfect.

Well, almost perfect.  Someone did wind up taking the other seat, but the exit row gives me more legroom, and I have an aisle seat, so it was more comfortable than the cramped seat from the outbound flight.  As soon as we were airborne, I proceeded to write my entry, which I will now close, along with closing out this trip.  Next stop: New Mexico with Uncle Frankie to see the Trinity Missile site, along with some other National Park Sites.  It’ll be a fun trip.

South Carolina - Day 1 - The Swamp

3/26/16, “The Swamp”

Columbia, South Carolina

The sun has set over South Carolina, and my adventures of the day have ended so that my night’s activities may begin.  There are 59 National Parks in the United States, of which 4 are on the islands of the South Pacific (2 in Hawaii and 1 in American Samoa) and the Caribbean (1 in the Virgin Islands).  I have now been to the other 55.  The first one I visited was Everglades National Park in Florida, 17 years ago.  Since then, I have visited National Parks in 26 states, from Acadia National Park in Maine to Kobuk Valley National Park in the northwesternmost part of Alaska to Joshua Tree National Park in Southern California to Dry Tortugas National Park in the Florida Keys, I have been to all 55.  It was no easy task, and it took numerous trips of varying lengths and intensities, but I have been to all 55.

Next year will bring me to the Virgin Islands and the South Pacific, where I will finish my quest.  But now, I will recall my day of travelling through the swamplands of South Carolina.  It should have been a simple day, just the National Park and the BBQ joint before I got back to the hotel at 4 PM or, if I was ahead of schedule, I would have the option of fitting in another National Park Site.  That did not happen.  In fact, it was 7 PM by the time I got back to my hotel in the capital.  What happened?

Well, it was a series of not exactly unfortunate events.  I got to the Waffle House around 8:30 AM.  I ordered biscuits, sausage, grits, eggs, coffee, and, of course, a waffle.  My food came just before 9 AM.  At some point my chipper waitress’s large iced coffee from Starbucks spilled behind the counter.  After she mopped it up, she was called into the manager’s office.  When she brought me check, I asked if I should pay her or up front.  Very surlily, she said that I could either but that she was standing right there.  I handed her my card.  When she brought the CC slip, she hovered until I signed it, as opposed to what I’m used to when they tell me to take me time with it and come back later.  Thinking she might have just been fired, I wondered if I should give a more generous tip than usual.  I did not.  The check was small, so I gave 20% and rounded up to the next whole dollar.

I then continued on to the National Park, stopping at Rite-Aid to get some Nexium, which I had forgotten to bring.  It was much cheaper than in New York, so I got two 3-packs of 14 pills each.  It was 10 AM by the time I got to the VC, now an hour behind schedule, the possibility of the extra NPS for the day lost.  I did my stamping and got my t-shirt and pin before dropping it off at the car.  They had repurposed pill bottles and film canisters as portable ashtrays filled with sand.  I loved that.  They let you smoke on the trail, but they took stops to ameliorate the environmental damage that a cigarette butt or ash would do to the ecosystem.

I lit up a Romeo y Julieta Churchill, one of the last ones that I brought back from Cuba, and got on the boardwalk.  I found a nice photo spot and announced, fighting back the tears, “All Mainland US National Parks.”  It started in swamp not far south of here, and now it ended in another swamp.  I then continued along the boardwalk and recalled the other 54 National Parks I had visited, not a single bad memory among them, including what is still considered the greatest trip of my life, the one to the National Parks of the American West with my parents about 15 years ago.  My mother and I will be doing another trip this October to Texas, to see the Alamo and the associated newly designated World Heritage Site there.  She was with me for so many of these National Parks, other friends for other National Parks, some, like this one, on my own.  As I recalled the other National Parks, I did so geographically, not chronologically, so I was constantly skipping back forth over the span of the 17 years.  I continued walking and turned around eventually.  After about an hour and a half, ten minutes from the VC, it started to pour.  I got back to the VC, ditched the cigar, connected to the Wi-Fi, and got caught up on social media.

I then put in the town of Hemingway into my GPS, which was my lunch destination, Scott’s BBQ, South Carolina’s “most iconic restaurant.”  There was a road closure.  I didn’t have a cell signal.  It really messed things up.  It added at least half an hour to the drive.  Finally, I figured out how to get around it and was on the highway.  I lit up a Camacho for the drive, and it was after 3 PM by the time I pulled in.  This was the day of their annual picnic.  What are the odds?!?  Well, 1 in 52, I guess.  I parked on the grassy lot and headed into the BBQ joint.  I was definitely in the heart of the South.  Other than a few tourists, there was not a single white face inside, and it was a long line.  A very long line.  It was 3:30 PM by the time I was sitting down with my pound of BBQ.  It was good, really good.

I then went across the street to check out the picnic as I messaged back and forth with my friend about the new DC movie.  I went back to my car and got an OpusX, which I lit up as I walked around the picnic area.  One of the women from inside came up to me, shocked that I had managed to put away a whole pound of the BBQ.  She could never do it.  It was now past 4 PM.  I was supposed to be back at the hotel by then.  I made my way back to the hotel, stopping at Walmart to get a snack at the McDonald’s there, along with some Easter goodies.  It was still raining, so I didn’t light up another cigar for the ride home.  Around 7 PM, I pulled into the hotel and gave the valet my keys.  I headed up to the room to relax for a bit before I had to head out in time to get to the State House before sunset.

I went to the State House and took my ceremonial pictures.  There was a big statue of Strom Thurmond.  He was fun.  The President Pro Tempore of the Senate when I first learned what that term meant.  He was a bit of a racist, though, but well, more on that topic later.  I found a spot with a nice view, where I sat down, lit up a PDR, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can head to a cigar store a few blocks away and watch the UNC game, maybe order some food if that’s allowed, who knows.  Tomorrow, I should be able to say “South Carolina complete.”

It was Kansas, not UNC, and they lost an exciting game.  More on that later.  I am in the cigar shop, surrounded by descendants of slaves.  I do not mean that in a disparaging way, not at all.  I am merely highlighting the demographics of this region.  The workers here appear to be descendants of slave owners.  That is the demographics of this town.  College students and descendants of slaves and slave owners.  Hemingway, where I went for BBQ, were all descendants of slaves.  As I drove today, I had thoughts about how racism or, more precisely, anti-racism.

I came to the conclusion that anti-racism is far more divisive than racism is, in present day America.  I am using the term racism as a catchall for any type of LGBT discrimination, whether it is based on race, ethnicity, or sexual orientation.  If we accept that 30% of the population is bigoted, actually I should use that term, posting on Facebook about how bad racism is, or encouraging people to unfriend Trump supporters, or liberal media talking about the “backwards” society that led to passing laws such as the one in North Carolina or the one pending in Georgia, or companies threaten to boycott entire states because of those laws, that is divisive.  That is more divisive than the old man sitting on his porch drinking a PBR next to his confederate flag.

There is a difference between racist thoughts and racist acts.  The goal of the civil rights movement in the 1960s was to eliminate racist acts.  It worked.  The goal of the liberal agenda today is to eliminate racist thoughts.  It is failing miserably.  It is dividing our country.  It is helping Mr. Trump secure his nomination.  After Obergefell v. Hodges, it was no longer enough that same-sex marriage was fully legalized, the liberal agenda then consisted of getting people to fully accept same-sex couples, in thought and act.  That was the reasoning behind the pizzeria in Indiana that was crucified for saying they would not cater a same-sex wedding.  Reader, what gay couple gets their wedding catered by a pizzeria?  It was the case with the bakery in Colorado.  Was it really the only bakery in town?  It was not about getting a cake for their wedding.  It was about eliminating bigoted thoughts.

Reader, where are the people who say, “I understand this is the way you feel about [disaffected group], and I accept that, but just please leave me alone.”  Because there are conservatives who say, “Look, I don’t accept your lifestyle, but I’m not going to stop you from living it.”  That is what is happening with these non-discrimination laws.  Discrimination in the private sector or my personal life should not prohibited by the government.  If I want to say that I don’t want to date a black girl or have a gay friend, the government would not force me to do so, but it attempts to regulate private sector employment in such a fashion.  The proper response to a bigoted employer is negative advertising and boycotts.  That would work.  It would work big time.  The government should not step in.

Instead, it creates a divide between the bigots and the tolerants, as I’ll call them.  The actions of the tolerants are further dividing this country by hardening the resolve of the bigots and making it a campaign issue.  If people want to be bigoted, let them.  Don’t demonize them.  You are demonizing 30% of the population when you do so.  That is called dividing the country.  Racially-motivated violence should be treated exactly the same way as any type of violence.  Private sector discrimination should be allowed.  It is not the job of the government to tell people how they should think, no more than it’s the job of the liberal media to do so.  If you look at the comments on Facebook of the news articles, they are brutal, they are as bad as anything the bigots post.  It makes me feel sympathy towards the bigots.  It makes me support their right to be bigoted.

That is why we have a continued divide of our country, and it is a serious problem.  My reader should note the law that came out of North Carolina, it’s not an anti-gay law.  It just allows people and private sector employers to be bigoted, if they so desire.  It even prevents racially-driven discrimination.  I will not even address the bathroom issue, as it is just too stupid.  Seriously, that’s where the trans-rights movement wants to make their big stand?  On bathroom usage.  You’re going in there to perform a biological function.  Segregate it by biological sex, not gender identity.

I don’t see a solution to this divide anywhere in sight, and it’s going to keep getting a lot worse.  One more thing, I read an article for philosophy class that addressed how anti-discrimination laws were not the solution.  It was written by a trans-rights activist, so I didn’t give it much credence, but now I think he had a lot right.  Anti-discrimination laws do not adjust the underlying problem, namely the reason people are bigoted.  That is what must be addressed, not specific acts of discrimination.

Anyway, so, after I closed at the State House, I headed to the cigar shop, and it was a nice little place with a mediocre humidor.  I picked out three cigars and set down in front of the TV, along with a beer.  They said I could order food if I wanted.  I was surrounded by the mix I described earlier, and I lit up an LFD.  Kansas lost the game, which messed up my bracket, since I had them winning the whole tournament, but it was a close and exciting game.  During the second half, I ordered some pizza, which was really good.  After the game, I got another beer and lit up a Tatuaje.  I then sat back down on the couch, where I proceed to write this entry, which I will now close, as the shop is about to close.  I guess I’ll publish when I get back to the hotel.  I need to get an early start tomorrow.

South Carolina - Day 0 - Back at It

3/25/16, “Back at It”

LaGuardia Airport, New York (LGA)

It has been six weeks since I have last written here.  In that time, I have not left New York State.  In fact, I don’t believe I have been more than 50 miles from my apartment.  Not much has happened in the past six weeks, but so much has.  I suppose it would be more accurate to say that what has transpired over the past six weeks is merely the logical continuation of what I recounted in my entries from Peru.  The presidential race has played out exactly as would have been predicted based on its state and events that I recounted six weeks ago.  Whatever has occurred in my personal and work life could easily have been predicted from what I recounted six weeks ago.

I have seen a bunch of movies, stayed up late many (every?) Tuesday nights watching the election returns, and, other than last weekend, my weekends were spent much the same way as the weekend before I left for Florida.  I spent most weekends working, and I had breakfast at McDonald’s every weekend morning.  Last weekend, I finally saw my parents again upon their return from Florida.  It was the first time in over a month that I had slept somewhere other than my apartment.  That must have been a record.

Now, I’m back at it.  This weekend South Carolina, next weekend New Mexico, the weekend after Belgium.  Oh, yes, Belgium, the tragic events in Brussels of Tuesday.  I will address that from Antwerp.  Undeterred by terror, that trip will continue.  I have never cancelled a trip out of terror before, and I will not let those attacks deter me.  It was a very unadventurous Day 0.  I had gone to see the new DC movie last night.  For my non-comic fans, that does not mean a movie set in our nation’s capital.  It was as bad as the reviews promised, and it has the potential to tank the entire DC Cinematic Universe.  Besides, I’m not yet ready to forgive Ben Affleck, and he is not a good Batman, not at all.  Jesse Eisenberg, though, makes the perfect Lex Luthor.  He’s come a long way from playing Mark Zuckerberg.  However, it was a late showing, so it was about 3 AM by the time I finally got to sleep, and I hadn’t packed yet.

Pack.  By that I mean throw a few cigars and clothes into my computer bag and pack up my sleep machine.  This is a weekend in South Carolina, not a week in South America.  I lit up a cigar while I packed and would drop it off at the cigar store on my way to work.  I had a very productive day, and I was planning on doing my usual (well, not so usual anymore) pre-departure lunch at Hop Won.

One of the inspectors asked me what I was doing for lunch.  One thing led to another, and we wound up having a (dry) lunch at an Irish pub a block from the office.  That took up the whole hour, so I didn’t have time to finish my cigar.  I finished up at work and got ready to leave, only for the front zipper to break.  I would not have time to get a new bag.  I went to the cigar store to finish my cigar and caught a taxi to LGA.  I had the TSA PreCheck printed on my boarding pass, so I breezed through security.  I headed to my gate, reflecting on Donald Trump’s recent comments (similar to those previously made by Vice President Biden) that LGA resembled a third world airport.  I thought about all my trips to the third world.  They have many airports that are nicer than LGA.

I got to the gate and went to take a picture of the departure sign, only to be told by the gate agent, for the first time, in any airport, anywhere in the world, that I couldn’t take a picture of the sign.  I took the picture anyway and made a face that was more appropriate to an emoji than a human being.  I then set down across from the gate, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close.  This will be my third trip to South Carolina, and I will reflect on the details of those previous trips tonight from the capital.

Columbia, South Carolina

Until today, I never quite realized that South Carolina is in the heart of the South.  Sure, I knew all the demographics, so much of which had been drilled into my head by CNN commentators last month.  Sure I knew the geography.  At least, in theory, I knew it was in the South, but my two previous trips had taken me to the touristy areas, the white, rich touristy areas along the coast: Hilton Head Island, Charleston, and Fort Sumter.  That is not representative of South Carolina.  Once I walked into the McDonald’s, I knew I was in the heart of the South.  When I asked the front desk clerk at hotel with a bit of a drawl, “Is the coffee still on?” I knew that not only was I in the South, but that the South was already in me.

It should be noted that I am not using this term as a euphemism for an area with a high population of black people.  The south has a demographic that represents, unlike the rest of the country, the descendants of slaves and slave owners.  You don’t see that demographic in New York or Detroit or Los Angeles.  It is unique to the South.  Here in the center of Columbia, I am near the big University, so the demographic is slightly skewed, but the point still stands, and it will stand when I walk into Waffle House tomorrow morning.

A year ago this month I had a similar experience in Jackson, the capital of Mississippi, I was at the fancy hotel with the tourists, the rich, white tourists, but the Waffle House had a demographic more representative of the state of Mississippi, which, again, was not the same as my previous experience in Biloxi.  I have been to Atlanta, to Jackson, to Baton Rouge, to Nashville, and now I am in Columbia.  I guess that just leaves Montgomery.  Over the next two Days, I will thoroughly and completely explore South Carolina, enjoying being inland in the state for the first time.

10 years ago, I came to South Carolina for the first time.  I was so excited, it would be the last state east of the Mississippi I needed to visit.  We went to Hilton Head Island.  We drank cold drinks by the pool.  I sat and smoked (?) and read Lord of the Rings on the balcony.  That was not South Carolina.  6 years later, when I set out to see the world, I drove from Orlando to Charleston, in one day.  The next morning, I went to Fort Sumter, and then I drove back to the Orlando, only stopping in Charleston and at some National Park Sites.  That was not South Carolina.  This trip, I will experience South Carolina for what it is, and I will understand why it is a state that chose Mrs. Clinton and Mr. Trump in its primary elections.  I will understand why it is as solid of a red state as it gets.  I will understand all of this, the same as I understood it in Mississippi this time last year.

After I closed, we soon boarded the flight, or, more accurately, we took a bus to the plane, and I will not get until the details, but it was a very cramped and uncomfortable, though thankfully short flight.  I worked on updating my travel spreadsheets, and we soon landed in Columbia, which had a much nicer airport than LaGuardia.  I got the car, which was extremely shiny and fancy, a Chrysler 300 that had to be a 2016 or 2015 model year.  At that point, I realized just how starving I was.

I wound up stopping at a McDonald’s, as described above.  The menu was a little different than New York, and I got a Southern Style Chicken meal and Sausage Biscuit.  It was delicious.  I then headed to the hotel, which, again, reminded me of the hotel in Jackson.  The woman at the front desk was very friendly (and pretty), and I’m not sure how I started talking with a touch of a Southern drawl.  She put me in a room with a view of the State House, gave me the address for a Waffle House on the way to Congaree National Park, and confirmed that the coffee was still on.

I went up to the room, changed into some casual clothes and put, what else, the UNC college basketball game.  It was halftime.  I charged my electronics up a bit and grabbed a Diamond Crown.  I headed down, refilled my coffee, and went outside.  The benches in front of the hotel did not have a view of the State House, which had its flags at half-mast.  I wondered if it was for Brussels.  I did, however, find a grassy ledge with a great view of the State House, where I lit up my cigar and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish while I finish my cigar.  I suppose the UNC game will be over by the time I go back upstairs.