I laughed to beat the band when someone etched out the numerical equivalent of Pi last week. The geek graffitti stretched across the length of a large, oceanfront hotel.
I could mention the hotel by name, but I won’t. The owner comes from old money and treats his employees like objects. I had friends who worked for him for years. They were paid low wages and offered few benefits. Then their bossman didn’t give them anything for X-mas. Nothing.
Is it any wonder that people are bussed here from 100 miles away to fill jobs?
The Pi sand scrawl was forty numbers long. I knew the first couple of numbers were right, but I didn’t know about the rest. Math was never one of my best school subjects. I was one of the wiseguys sitting in the back of the classroom throwing pencils into the asbestos ceiling. Poison snow fell on us from above. Smart, huh?
I know. I got off track again.
Sand messages are everywhere on shore. Love notes and hearts might be the most common, often documenting teen love that won’t last through the summer. People like to write their own names, foretelling of the day that they will have the same name branded somewhere on their bodies. Tributes to grandparents and birthday wishes sit side-by-side. There are many get well soons and just about as many graphic outlines of body parts. The porn needs to go, but it’s hard to corral 12-year-olds.
Beaches are special places on which visitors can literally leave their footprints. People are enchanted by the shore and the ocean and they feel a bond to it. Many of them want everyone to know that they were here. I know from vacationing in Surfside Beach for so long. As the week drew to a close, we got more wistful about having to leave.
My favorite sand doodle is “I love Myrtle Beach.” I’ve seen it numerous times over the years and it makes me feel good about the city that I call home. I’m one of those damn Yankees who has no plans on ever going back north. Someday, I’ll write it in sand.