OPINION PAGES
And all we ever wanted was a normal vacation
Rondal Walton
walhn@unca.edu - Sports Editor
Family vacations usually mean
pending quality time together and mak-
ng memories to share with other people.
Veil, my family's vacation to Myrtle Beach
ertainly brought us somewhere and defi-
itely gave me a memory to share.
This vacation consisted of three key bat
ing moments. It all starts with the hotel
3om my father chose. Now, we try not to
ntrust my father with the task of choos-
ig hotels, or motels, as it usually turns out,
ecause all he ever does is find the lowest
rice lodging that matches his list of ame-
ities. The problem? His list of amenities
ever correspond with anybody else's list.
1 wish I could remember the name of this
lotel so I can give it a scathing review, but I
1st can't. However, I do remember walking
ito the building for the first time. Wispy
ngers of steam rolled from the door when
ly dad opened it. My mom, sister and I ex-
langed glances, struggling to hold up the
‘ggage.
"Oh yeah, the guy at the front desk said
lat there's no air conditioning in the hall-
ays," my dad said.
My mom rolled her eyes and snorted. 1
'ok a deep breath and looked toward the
:ean.
Strike one, I thought.
But the front desk guy wasn't jok-
g. When we stepped out of the boil-
g elevator, the equally blistering hallway
St about made me faint. Instead of open-
g up to Paradise, I felt like I just stepped
to Milton's Hell, and Satan would pop out
om the air ducts at any moment, snatch-
g me away to Pandemonium.
"Damn," I heard my mom say under her
'eath.
"Oh my gosh, it feels like hell up in here,"
my sister whispered to me.
Thankfully, our room had air condition
ing. You better believe that if it didn't, we
would've camped out on the beach, with or
without my father.
The second strange moment happened at
one of the worst restaurants I've ever been
to. It wasn't because of the food quality or
the service. This restaurant served dolphin,
my favorite animal.
However, the restaraunt also served a
delicacy known as alligator. My father de
cided to try this beachy treat. And by joking
with the waiter, he got it for free.
When the alligator arrived, I couldn't
help but to think, "It just looks like watery
balls of fried chicken." So, since I'll eat just
about any kind of chicken, I was tempted
for a moment to try it. Then, I remember
that it wasn't exactly chicken and I cowered
against the wall.
The first thing my dad did with his free
appetizer was to slather it in tartar and hot
sauce.
"Really?" I asked my dad. "Do you always
have to be so stereotypically black in pub
lic?"
"What? It's the way I like my fish," he said.
And, oh boy, did he like it. He even got
a to-go box and took some with us back to
the hotel/motel/hell. I can't even describe
how badly that stunk up the refrigerator
and the kitchenette. Note to any alligator
eaters: Either eat all of it at the restaurant
or leave it. Do not take it home.
Strike two.
The last event of the ‘Walton Family
Myrtle Beach Extravaganza,' or what I like
to call ‘Another Failed Walton Family Vaca
tion,' almost ended in our deaths. No, but
seriously.
We decided to eat out again, this time
at Outback Steakhouse. My mother didn't
want to drive because she can't see verj
well at night. And, since neither my sistei
nor I were old enough to even take driver'*
education, my dad took the wheel. Pleast
start your prayers now.
The Outback sat to our left, brightly lil
and the parking lot jam-packed. However
seeing as we sailed along in the right hanc
lane, we needed to turn left across aboui
three lanes of traffic. And we didn't choost
a great time to dine out because the car*
zoomed past us. Most people at that timr
of night ventured to various restaurants foi
dinner, too.
My dad sat next to the median, semi-
patiently waiting for a safe - or so I thoughi
-opening. My mom, sister, and I chatted anc
laughed about random things. Everything
seemed all right.
Suddenly, my dad flung the car into tht
street. Everyone in the car lurched to the
right; my face flattened against the windo\A
and my short life literally flashed before m>
eyes. I saw "the light," which I'm pretty sure
was just the headlights of the dangerouslj
close cars flashing in my face.
"Oh shit!" My mom shrieked, dragging
out both words and making it seem like she
spoke in slow motion.
Once the car righted itself in the Outbacl
parking lot, I looked over at my dad witf
incredulous eyes. He just had his signature
satisfied smile on his face and I shook m3
head disbelief.
Strike three! Strike three!
"Oh, nuh uh, you need to let me out of thi*
car," my sister said.
Sadly to say, this was our last visit tc
Myrtle Beach. Actually, I'm not too sad tc
say it; I have absolutely no desire to return
especially not to Outback Steakhouse.
See, I love my dad, I really do. But thai
just ain't right.