Sweet Sweet Solitude

There is just something about a comfortable chair on the front porch, late on a mid-April evening that sharpens the senses. It is almost a religious experience, a calm moment in a sea of chaos that is life in this busy world. Most of the neighborhood has long since retired for the evening and up and down my street front porches are softly lit with the warm glow of table lamps, standing guard over the house through the night. It is very quiet here in my sanctuary, save for the occasional hum of an air conditioning unit or the distant bark of a dog. This is my time, time for a few chapters in a book and a glass of ice water, maybe a sip of bourbon. Time for pondering, searching for answers, and resting. The light breeze hits me in the face, as my house is oriented to the East and most evenings the sea breezes gently make their way westward from the Atlantic Ocean toward my inland location.

Our cat, Kitty Lee, likes this time of the day as well. He enjoys the company on the porch, seems very comfortable doesn't he? I enjoy his company as well, he listens, quite good. Never answers, never offers his opinions, he just listens. Oh I guess occasionally he looks up at me, wrinkles his nose and squints his eyes as if to say, "Really." But for the most part, he just listens, and watches me.

I am blessed in many ways by this idle time. It recharges me, it comforts me, and it completes me. But most of all, in this quiet solitude I feel that I am just where I need to be. I hear the squeak of a door opening and gazing down the street searching for the source of the sound that has disturbed my moment, I see a man emerge from his home and choose a spot in a comfortable chair on a lamp lit porch, and I am happy for him, because I know that he is about to begin to enjoy the quiet as well. As I take my last few sips of bourbon, and close my book for the night, I quietly slip off of the porch into the security of my home, ever so quietly, like in Church, so as to not disturb his peaceful moment. Good Night, friends. Good Night!

Wait! What Is That Noise I Hear?

Silence is golden. It's rather cliche, but it is true, at least in most instances. However, this morning as I visit with you through this media known as "the blog" silence represents something else. Since last Wednesday afternoon we have been blessed to serve as hosts to two different groups of house guests. First to arrive was my BFF from childhood and his beautiful wife, Mark and Lisa. We had a great weekend of fun with them.

When Sunday rolled around and they exited to return to their home in the Mountain State of West Virginia, I scarcely had time to miss them because as they were driving West on I-26 our next guests were waving at them from the East bound lane. My cousin Susan and her two WONDERFUL daughters, Emily and Delaney, arrived Sunday morning. After a trip to the beach at Sullivan's Island on Sunday we settled into a whirlwind week of shopping, touring and dining. It was so much fun.

I have to admit though, a bit ago when they pulled away from the house at 0'dark-thirty, I was sad. And while I sat down at the kitchen table to read, I heard the most odd roar throughout our home. The sound of silence. Oh don't worry, it won't last long, in fact, the washer and dryer are soon to be humming as I prepare two bedrooms for some more special guests. My brother and his wife stopped by briefly yesterday after flying into Charleston from their home in Chicago enroute to Augusta for three rounds of The Masters Golf Tournament. They will return Saturday afternoon and we will be blessed having them on hand for the Easter Holiday Weekend. And, my oldest son JD will make the trek from Columbia tomorrow afternoon along with his "sweetest", Alex (all you A.D.Pi girls are the same)setting the scene for a GLORIOUS EASTER in the Hammond household.

The preparations remind me how much I love my family. I am sooooooo lucky to have two wonderful sons who are becoming FABULOUS young men, right in front of my eyes. Growing up in today's world is hard, for sure. So many pitfalls, temptations and possible wrong turns. I pray that lots of love and a stern hand of guidance from their parents will steer both of them through the obstacle course that is life. That, and of course a moral compass provided by their faith journey with Jesus Christ.

So, as the sun rises on a new day in The Land of Palm Trees potential and excitement are on the horizon as we prepare for a much anticipated Easter Weekend with family. I wish all of mine and Michelle's family were going to be here with us, but you can bet those who aren't will be missed, as well as talked about. Teeeheeee, just kidding. Not really.

Did You Have To Say That? Really?

Anybody who frequents From The Land of Palm Trees on a regular basis, and there are many who do, knows that I am an advocate for Charleston as the World's Best Tourist Destination. Her people, her places, her history and her beauty are second to none. This fair city, my city has earned numerous awards and accolades over the past decade, and I have trumpeted her worth all over the blogosphere like Louis Armstrong blowing his horn. My wife and I are smack dab in the middle of two straight weeks of various out of town guests visiting with us in our home. We love to have friends and family visiting with us. If nothing else it gives us a chance to be tourists in our own city.

For instance, since last Wednesday we have kayaked the Folly River, enjoyed happy hour at the Pavilion Bar, dined at Husk, King Street Grille, Bowen's Island Restaurant and Bocci's. We did the Cooper River Bridge Run and spent the day on the beach at Sullivan's Island, visited the South Carolina Aquarium, enjoyed a carriage ride around the city and shopped on King Street with our guests. Tomorrow we will greet yet more guests, as my brother and sister-in-law arrives for The Masters and the Easter Holiday, so don't look for this tourist in your own town lifestyle to end any time soon.

For the most part, our guests have experienced the Holy City at it's finest. They have recognized just what I mean when I write about Easy Livin' and Southern Hospitality here in From The Land of Palm Trees. Tonight, however while we waited for what ended up being an absolutely wonderful Charleston Ghost and Graveyard Tour with Bulldog Tours our guests got to see a thankfully rare occurrence in a city that prides itself on treating people as guests in a world class tourist destination. While waiting in the corridor outside of the Bulldog Tours box office with a large group of guests who were taking one of several Bulldog Ghost Tours I made the mistake of standing in front of a doorway leading to what I didn't realize at the time was another Tour Company box office, located across the corridor from Bulldog Tours. The website for this tour, The Original Pub Tour of Charleston, indicates that it is operated by the Lesesne Tour Company and offers it's guests the chance to experience a tour operated by "experienced beer brewers" and offering "a very intimate and specialized tour placing quality over quantity so that everybody can enjoy a comfortable atmosphere" as they tour historic pubs located all over Historic Charleston. What you won't read on the website is anything about the rude and nasty treatment that visitors to the Holy City who make the same mistake that this guy did by standing in front of the their doorway might receive. As I was standing and talking with some other guests waiting for their Ghost Tour, the door to the Pub Tour box office opened and a young women whom I presume to be an agent for the Pub Tour appeared in the door and said, in a very abrasive tone, something to the effect of "would you move and quit standing in front of our doorway." Those who heard her were somewhat taken back by the rude and condescending tone, to the degree of raised eyebrows. I guess I wouldn't have been taken back if she would have kindly reminded me that I was blocking her entry way, but the tone was mean spirited and ugly, not what those of us who live here proudly proclaim as Southern Hospitality. After a couple of seconds to digest what had just happened, I opened the door to the office and spoke with the young lady and as I was reminding her that she really shouldn't talk to people with such an abrasive tone, she looks at me and says, "yeah, right, whatever, just get out of the way and don't block my door."

I guess that as a local, one with an extreme knowledge and understanding of how hard most Charlestonians who are in the tourism business work to get it right, I should be glad that this experience happened to me, and not one of our thousands of guests. Unfortunately, the sad truth is that If it happened to me the nastiness from this person who represents one of our tour companies has and will probably be shared elsewhere with others including those who may be visiting this wonderful city for the first time and may not have an acute awareness of the true Charleston experience.