Myrtle Beach Adventure

There it  was, touchdown in Myrtle Beach, which is a resort town in South Carolina. But why? Because an old friend was being consecrated in the Orthodox Anglican Church and I flew out to support him. He's a good man and's had an interesting life.

art

Naval enlisted, went back in with a commission, did mysterious, arcane things, left to become a DC lawyer, left that to be a priest in the Anglican Continuing Church and's now a bishop. Well done, perhaps a movement from dark to light?

South Carolina bought the London Eye

Regardless, we set up at the Hampton Broadway, which is a hotel in a kind of ersatz boardwalk tourist development a mile or so from the actual beach, complete with artificial lake and everything else. I'd imagine the Broadway's an intolerable, heaving nightmare in season but it was pretty much empty this week, which was fine. 

Typical light house street scene

Stroll around around the little thematic shopping zones and wonder at the glory of it all as you ask, "Why is there a Japanese steakhouse in 'New England Village'?" Puzzled, swing by the Key West "Hangout," ask yourself why it's empty and how can they afford to keep this place running.

what a beautiful bridge

Baffled, take rum meets rum meets fruit juice solace at Margarataville before falling back to an RV at the hotel, life is good. The next day, go to your pal's consecration at a small mission church a few blocks away and feel genuinely blessed by the experience.

Morning after

No kidding, what a good exeat and our party was curiously military, one of the recently retired padres had had the honor of celebrating the Mass in Saddam's former palace. I'd say that was braggable.

consecration

And now? Back in the great state of Texas, which is a country in itself, and a good one. Off topic though it seems relevant, somehow. Never, ever, ever, ever give up. I say that most seriously.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

So I Went To Waxahachie

Wake up, feed the dog, boil the kettle, say Morning Prayer. Shower, go to the Pick 'n Steal and get coffee, check the news. Note how Operation Boomerang is progressing nicely for Joe "Don't Call Me Quid Pro Quo" Biden. Play Groove is in the Heart by Deelite.

Then drive to Waxahachie. Yes readers, all seven of you, Waxahachie. Why? Because you've been invited to the Global Orthodox Anglican Church's clericus. And there you are , at this little Texas Gothic church in the midst of a pretty neat town. Note, Waxahachie's been gentrified, thank God.

I heard a talk from the OAC's Primus about the Eucharist. Simple stuff but alright with it. Then I lurked off to the church hall and talked horses with a ranching woman who was making pulled pork, even though it was Friday.

She was down to earth and used to cowboy because her Father didn't have any sons to look after the cattle. Respect. We talked Arabians and "hitting the ground like a sack of wet charcoal." Then it was time for Mid-Day Prayer.

The impressively bearded Primate of the OAC performed a quick change parade and walked over to the church in Rochet, Chimere and all the rest. I called out, "Bishop, you're looking terrifyingly Choir Dress," he chuckled at that, which I liked.

As we were entering the small but winsome church I told him, boldly, "Years ago I went to the King's School Canterbury and we used to have Summer assemblies in the Quire of the Cathedral. It was Sung Mattins, and after the first one I wrote home, "Dear Mother, I think I've been to a non-communicating Solemn High Mass. I was twelve at the time."

His Eminent Grace thought that "very good" and I replied "very ridiculous" and off we went to the Office. All well and good. And it was. So good to be with loyal, catholic Anglicans, people who actually believe in the Creed they stand up and proclaim Sunday by Sunday.

Waxahachie's neat too, nice little town.

God bless,

LSP