Category Archives: Travel

How the governor spent Mother’s Day weekend

You’ll remember all the brouhaha that ensued after our governor went missing last Father’s Day weekend.

Well, our governor is nothing if not a creature of habit, so here’s how he celebrated Mother’s Day weekend:

Gov. Mark Sanford and a female guest spent the weekend in the Florida Keys at a luxury hotel that is a getaway destination with a long list of famous visitors, including celebrities and U.S. presidents.

Sanford and the woman had a three-day reservation at the Cheeca Lodge and Spa, Megan Sterritt with the Miami public relations firm KWE Group Inc. confirmed Monday. Sterritt would not say if the woman who accompanied the now-divorced Sanford was Maria Belen Chapur, the woman with whom Sanford had the affair that brought down his presidential aspirations last year.

The governor’s communications director, Ben Fox, provided few details about the trip.

And that is about all I’ve got to say about that.

Except this… I just said the governor is a creature of habit. But it’s not at ALL like him to shell out the dough to go to a resort. So that’s new. He’s branching out. He still vetoes the cigarette tax increase every year, though, and frankly, that’s what I care about.

For John Monk: Some pictures from home

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Little-known tidbit of newspaper personality trivia: John Monk of The State grew up in Kensington, Md., two blocks over from the house in which my Dad grew up. This was not at the same time, mind you. John’s older than I am, but not THAT much older. No, John remembers when my Aunt Bobbie’s family lived in what originally had been built as the Warthen house. He particularly remembers that my cousin Jackie drove a Ford Falcon as a high school student.

I had known John for years and years, but didn’t learn this stuff about him until after I hired him away from The Charlotte Observer in 1997.

Anyway, it all came up again when I went up there for Aunt Bobbie’s 90th birthday party. Jackie was there, but no Ford Falcon. The celebration wasn’t in Kensington, but further out in the far-flung suburbanopolis of Montgomery County. But before the party, Dad and I explored around Kensington a bit. I mentioned all this in a previous post.

While I was there, I called John to tell him I was on his street, but I was wrong. I thought he lived on Everett, but it was actually another block over on Franklin. I ran into John at Rotary yesterday, and promised to share with him some pictures from the visit. And I decided the easiest way to do that would be to post them here. This is bound to bore most of you, but you can just move on to another post. Maybe I’ll do something personal for you later.

To identify the pictures:

  1. Above you find my Dad checking out the old homestead at 3904 Dresden St. Remember it now, John? Second house over from Connecticut Ave. A fact or two about that house: It was built by my great-grandfather, Alfred Crittenton Warthen, as a wedding present to my grandfather, just under a century ago. It stayed in the family until the present owner bought it from Aunt Bobbie’s daughter, my cousin Mary Jane. A.C. Warthen, by the way, may have built your home, too, if it’s old enough. He built a lot of the homes in that area. I wish he had kept some in the family. I’d love to be sitting on some of that real estate today.
  2. Mizell Lumber & Hardware. My Dad remembered it from his day — he went to school with some Mizell’s. Thought you might remember it, too.
  3. The “modern” (circa 50s or 60s, I’m guessing) shopping center that was a block from the elementary school that I attended for a couple of months back before we were sent down to South America in 1962 (My Dad was doing language training in D.C.). I used to collect discarded pop bottles and exchange them at the grocery that used to be here, so I could spend the proceeds on soda and Mad magazines.
  4. The old train station. They were having a local farmer’s market in the parking lot that Saturday.
  5. The house my grandmother lived in as a teenager. She had previously lived downtown next door to Pitchfork Ben Tillman, when he was a U.S. senator. I mentioned that in a previous column. Anyway, her father — an attorney from South Carolina working for the Treasury Department, who would later help start the GAO — eventually moved the family out here, away from the taint of Tillman. Here’s how she met my grandfather — she would see him walking past her house on the way to the train station each day in a suit and straw boater, carrying a bag. She thought he was a salesman, and the bag contained his wares. Actually, he was a ballplayer, and bag contained his uniform and glove. He worked for the Post Office, but he only worked there so that he could play ball for its team. He was a pitcher. Gerald “Whitey” Warthen would eventually be offered a contract with the Senators, which he turned down to work in his father’s business.
  6. OK, this isn’t even Kensington, but I liked the shot, from later in the same day as the ones above. That’s the security gate at Bethesda Naval Hospital close by. I shot this through the windshield just before pulling up to the gate, as the Jeep ahead pulled away.

Finally, John, here are the pictures I posted earlier from Dietle’s, where you told me you had a beer or two back in the day…

Did I miss anything over the weekend?

Apparently not. I was gone, to Maryland and back, from Friday morning to Monday afternoon, and it doesn’t seem that much happened around here while I was away — hence my mostly hard-news-free posts yesterday. I see that the boys are giving Elise Partin a hard time in Cayce, but that doesn’t seem surprising somehow. Just disappointing.

Rummaging through the papers for recycling, I couldn’t find the Sunday front page, so I might have missed something.

I’m talking South Carolina news here. I caught the House passage of a health care bill, which happened up where I was. (I gave Charlie Pope a call Saturday morning — y’all remember Charlie — and he was having to work that day because of it.)

Anyway, if I missed anything, here’s a good time to bring it up…

A bit of human warmth amid the concrete, steel and glass

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The pickin’ and grinnin’ downtown last night reminded me of one of my favorite parts of my trip up to suburban D.C. over the weekend. As you saw, I gave the usual sights a mere lick and a promise; I paid more attention to Montgomery County, Md. That’s where my Dad grew up.

On Friday night, we were taking our lives into our hands in the heavy traffic on Rockville Pike, looking for a place to eat, when Dad suddenly said, “Dietle’s!” Established in 1916, Hank Dietle’s tavern — Dad remembered it as “Pop Dietle’s” — really looked out of place amid the steel and glass and concrete towers and malls that crowd the once-sleepy town of Rockville. We didn’t stop there that night, but came back on Saturday morning, and it seemed almost like an archaeological find in that location.

Yet it remains very alive, very much a part of the community. As you see, on Saturday morning there was a group of musicians playing Celtic music over pitchers of dark beer, and we stopped to chat with them, which gave them a chance to recharge their glasses.

Dad remembers this as one of the places where my Grandad would stop and go in for a quick beer while Dad waited in the car. That may sound neglectful by modern standards, but my Dad remembers it fondly in the context of traveling around the county with his father. Now, of course, he’s old enough to go inside, and he sees that it’s a pretty cool place.

Here’s the way it’s described on a Washington Post site:

Hank Dietle’s white “Cold Beer” sign and front porch look more than a little out of place among the neon lights of Rockville Pike, but for people looking for a no-nonsense neighborhood bar, it’s a welcome spot.

Watching a Redskins game at Hank’s is like watching it in your friend’s living room. Snacks — free chips, dip in a crockpot and sandwiches — are provided on a card table in the small bar and patrons shout at the quarterback and the officials from their bar stool or booth. The regulars are mostly locals in their thirties and forties, although weekends can draw both a younger and less local crowd as well.

I find the existence of such places as this reassuring. We ended up eating Friday night at a Chili’s, which is more typical of what you find on that road. I wish we’d had more time to hang out at Dietle’s, which seemed a lot more real.

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Drive-by, shoot-from-the-hip (and over the shoulder) tourism

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Yesterday, I talked my Dad into heading home from Maryland straight through the heart of our nation’s capital so we could say we had sure enough been in it, rather than skirting it on the Beltway again. So we took the George Washington Parkway in, which was beautiful on this unseasonably warm fall day, and drove over the river via the Memorial Bridge, which is definitely the way to do it.

Trouble was, I was driving, and the weather was so great that all the parking spaces were taken, so my photography (with my phone) of the landmarks leaves something to be desired. You may actually recognize the landmark above, even thought the pointy part at the top was missing.

But the one below — well, all I can say is that we were crossing over the Mall from the Pennsylvania Ave. side to the other, and we had a great view of the Capitol off to the left, and, well, I snapped this (without looking, of course) a split-second too late. I think the dome that does show is actually part of the Smithsonian.

At least my intentions were good. I meant to share the view with y’all; I really did…

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Hallowed ground, just after sunset

Bethesda

My dad and I are staying this weekend at the Navy Lodge at Bethesda Naval Hospital. You’re going to say that I have no right to be there, and you’re perfectly right; I’m very sensible of the fact. But my Dad, a retired captain and Vietnam combat veteran (river patrol boats) has every right to be there, and I’m his driver, so I’m staying with him.

Dad and I came up for his sister’s 90th birthday party, which is this afternoon. I mention that just because it really seems to bug bud whenever I, as an unemployed guy, take what he regards as a “vacation.” I’m just along to drive my Dad’s car — and to see relatives I haven’t seen in about 13 years. I’m looking forward to it, but it’s not like I’m being a spendthrift being here. Dad’s paying for the gas. (bud also thought I was engaging in riotous living when I drove my daughter to Pennsylvania and drove back the next day; then repeated the process to bring her back two weeks later. I enjoyed it, but I wasn’t at Club Med; I was more like Dean Moriarty driving, maniacally driving through the ever-loving heart of America, you understand, ahem, yes…)

My Dad had wanted to spend even less and stay at the BOQ, but there was no room. And he fully understood why it can be hard to get a room there, and at the Lodge (where rates are more like a civilian motel) — because military families come here to visit their wounded loved ones back from the war. At least, we assume that’s the reason. Consequently, if one of those families needs the room we’re in, we’ll vacate it in a skinny minute.

The president visited wounded over at Walter Reed yesterday, as we were driving up here. As it happens, a new Walter Reed — or an extension, or something — is being built on the grounds of Bethesda Naval. I think this is because of the terrible conditions we heard so much about a year or two ago over at Reed. Good. There was a time when the main tower of Bethesda Naval was about all there was, and there was a 9-hole golf course on the grounds around it. But that was long, long ago, and a far more important use has been found for the space.

I’m in awe, and deeply grateful, to be so close to men and women who have given so much for their country. I thought the image I shot just after sunset, showing the main tower of the hospital, sort of captured that feeling.

Of course, Bethesda and Reed have long also been used for less awe-inspiring purposes, such as medical care for members of Congress. But that’s not what was on my mind when I took that picture.

Home is the sailor, home from the sea/And the hunter home from the hill. But not in the sense that Stevenson meant, thank God, but home and alive. May God speed them to recovery, and a full life back among their loved ones.

Braving the Beltway at rush hour Friday

Hey, you think state employees in Columbia are eager to get away from work on a Friday afternoon? Try getting onto the Beltway around D.C. just before 4 p.m. on a Friday.

When we entered from I-95 coming up from S.C. it was fine, but as we approached the Potomac heading toward our destination in Maryland, it locked up. All six lanes. And we didn’t even get in the worst part. Half an hour later, and I think we would still have been there this morning.

Maybe my libertarian friends have a point. Maybe the federal gummint is too big. Just a tad, mind you…

Well, we made it, despite the odds

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Just got back home after driving up to Pennsylvania yesterday and back to Columbia today. I’m decompressing from the pressure. After all, 273 miles of today’s 573-mile haul were spent in Virginia, where we faced the threat of immediate annihilation from the air if we went a little too fast.

I don’t really know how else to take these signs you find throughout the state. They don’t say that you are monitored from the air or anything, they say the speed limits will be enforced from the air, which I can only imagine being done with air-to-ground missiles, or maybe one of those remarkable machine-cannons they have in the A-10 Warthog that fires like 4,000 depleted uranium rounds per minute.
Anyway, I feel lucky to be home. And I’m too tired to blog. I’ll just update you with my Tweets from the way up and back:

About to drive to Pennsylvania again today, and boy does the weather ever look dirty to the north…8:45 AM Aug 14th from web

Germany and France have pulled out of recession, but US and UK lag. Let’s get it in gear, Anglophones…8:59 AM Aug 14th from web

Stopped for a few minutes at the Barnes & Noble in Harrisonburg, Va., again. Gotta get back on 81 and flog that Yaris on up to central PA…5:57 PM Aug 14th from web

“Magical Mystery Tour” on the CD player, cruising up the valley…6:01 PM Aug 14th from web

I’ve been driving all day; my hands wet on the wheel. Literally — I’m not paraphrasing lyrics. Don’t know why my palms are sweating so…7:20 PM Aug 14th from web

Unless I’ve made a miscalculation, this rental Yaris is getting 43.599 mpg!7:23 PM Aug 14th from web

I’m in Carlisle, PA, home of the US Army War College, the place that launched Jim Thorpe, and home of a top ballet academy. A town of im …about 22 hours ago from web

… Meant to say, “…a town of impressive parts…”about 22 hours ago from web

Another cool thing about Central PA — I sat outside a country house near Carlisle & enjoyed a leisurely beer under the crisp stars: not …about 22 hours ago from web

(Cont.)…not one mosquito bite in the wonderfully cool night air…about 22 hours ago from web

About to eat at my favorite place in PA — the Middlesex Diner, with those nice, fat sausages & home fries!about 13 hours ago from web

Man, but that Central Pennsylvania breakfast was good! About time to mosey back to SC now…about 13 hours ago from web

Glittery-clean rest area in Virginia — literally. They’ve got like flecks of mica in the floor…about 10 hours ago from web

Where I’ve been, in less than 140 characters at a time

I may not know where I’m going (especially careerwise, and I’m eager to find out), but I can tell you where I’ve been.

You may have noticed I haven’t blogged the last couple of days — at least, not in this format. That’s because I drove to Pennsylvania on Sunday, and drove back Monday. I was pretty tired Monday night, but on the whole it was a good, enjoyable trip. I was driving, man! I knew time! I knew it! I was humming down the Shenandoah Valley in a stiff, jumpy Corolla — held the road like a prehistoric bird, you understand, ahem yes! (Apologies to Dean Moriarty, Neal Cassady, Jack Kerouac, Ken Kesey and Tom Wolfe).

I didn’t have a laptop with me, but I had my Blackberry, so yesterday I set myself the task of blogging (if you count Twitter, and it is indeed a truncated form of blogging) across six states. And NO, I didn’t type these while driving, but pulled off the road and came to a complete stop in a safe place each time. (In some places I posted two or three tweets before moving on.) The day started with breakfast with my daughter at my favorite PA spot, then she and I picked up the rental, then had a nice time walking around town in that beautiful weather until almost 10. Then I started the drive back alone. Looking and listening for things to pull over and post about helped keep me alert:

Just ate at the Middlesex Diner, my favorite spot in central PA. Those great fat sausages I can’t get at home…6:57 AM Aug 3rd from web

Just rented Toyota Corolla. Steering wheel awkwardly placed. Nowhere to put elbows. Nice car, though. Beautiful day in central PA…9:15 AM Aug 3rd from web

Twittering across 6 states. Just crossed Mason Dixon Line, our North-South Checkpoint Charlie…10:42 AM Aug 3rd from web

I’m briefly in Maryland, where the 1st Warthen to come to America settled in the 1630s… 10:44 AM Aug 3rd from web

West Va. provides a short stretch of speed between tighter limits of Md and Va…10:56 AM Aug 3rd from web

Picked up free map at W. Va. welcome center. Good intel to have, just in case…10:59 AM Aug 3rd from web

Hint for writer of country song I just heard; “Move” & “love” don’t rhyme, no matter how they look…about 24 hours ago from web

Passed an aging biker who thought he was showing muscles — loose arm skin rippling in wind…about 24 hours ago from web

Another country song, this one an oldie, tries to rhyme “New Mexico” and “loved her so.” Ow, my ears…about 23 hours ago from web

Shenandoah Valley unspeakably beautiful as always. In Virginia, today’s 4th state…about 23 hours ago from web

I’m at the Barnes & Noble in Harrisonburg, Va., getting Starbucks. My kind of rest stop…about 22 hours ago from web

Gimme a break! Just heard Jim DeMint on radio in Virginia!!! Argghhh! There’s no escape…about 22 hours ago from web

I’m pausing in North Carolina just long enough to figure out that I’m only 132 miles from home…about 17 hours ago from web

Back home to SC, 6th state of the day. Just turned in Corolla. It gave me a nice ride — 30 mpg…about 15 hours ago from web

Yes, I realize — kind of a silly and trivial accomplishment, Twittering in six states in one day. But that’s how I get through a long drive on the rare occasions that I have to make a long drive alone: I set myself little goals. Drive so much farther, and I’ll get something to eat. Drive this much farther, and I’m exactly one-third of the way. Get coffee, then see how far I can go (without speeding) before it’s just the right temperature.

And so forth. Twittering served this purpose fairly well. Although you’ll notice that most of the posts are in the first third of the distance. After Harrisonburg, I decided I had to stop stopping if I were to get home before I got too tired. Besides, after Virginia there were only two states left — one stop for gas, and another one at home…

Would saying “yes” incriminate me?

Today, I’m trying to rent a car to drive, one-way, from Pennsylvania back to Columbia one day next week. I’m helping somebody drive up there, and I need a way back.

A simple matter, you think? Well, if you think that, you’re wrong.

Just now I talked with the local representative of that rental company that tries harder, and he said he might be able to find me a car, but that there would be a “drop charge” or a “drop fee,” or some such. The word “drop” was in there somewhere. I’m guessing it’s from what customers’ jaws do when they hear the fee.

He said the car, for the day, would be $58.98. Not bad, I thought. With a rate that low, even with the drop fee it might be less than what another rental company (the one that this one traditionally tries harder than) had said they’d charge. And it would be closer to where I will be geographically.

Then he added, “with a drop charge of five hundred dollars.” Really. He said that. At which point the conversation was over.

Here’s what I’m thinking: Who would say “yes” to the incidental little added charge of $500 on a $58 rental who was not involved in a major drug deal or something or that kind? Presumably, I’m paying somebody to drive the car back for me — and whack somebody on the way, for that kind of money.

If anyone said “yes” to a deal like that, I’d immediately be extremely suspicious of him. Wouldn’t you?