Destination: Edisto Island

Next week is Thanksgiving, and it will find me on Edisto Island. Every year my parents, me, Koondog, his parents, and another friend of both families vacation to Edisto Island together. Koondog’s sister and her husband will usually come down for a few days, and his uncle and aunt have also come down a time or two. It’s a house full of people who love to fish, drink, shrimp, drink, crab, and drink. I look forward to it every year.
Fishing, as I’ve said before, is always enjoyable for me. It’s even better when I’m fishing with my father. Fishing, shrimping, and crabbing is something he and I have done together since I was little. (The drinking wasn’t something we shared until I was big.)
This year, however, a new recruit has been added to the mix: Koondog’s girlfriend. This will make me the only single person in the house, and that’s never an enjoyable thing. I have come to terms with the fact that I don’t need someone hanging on my arm to validate my existence, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss it when I surrounded by couples. Nothing against all you couples out there, I just envy the fact that you’ve found someone. (Much as I envy someone with blind faith who always has a companion in God, but that’s the subject of a yet-to-be-written blog. Look for it near Christmas after I venture under the roof of a church for the first time in over a decade.)
Koondog’s girl, I’ll call her Red, has been an on-again, off-again relationship for ten years. Just recently, she moved in with him, so I’m thinking it’s on for good this time around. In the beginning, I didn’t really get along with her because she never really talked to me. Maybe she was shy. Maybe I was a jerk. Who knows? Now, though, she’s not afraid to speak her mind, and I see a personality there that I can hang out with. But do I really want to share a bedroom with those two? It’s bad enough that I’m going to have to eat at the kid’s table. Maybe I’ll take my tent and make a psuedo-camping trip out of it.
Tonight I’m sitting down with a pen and notepad and making out The List. This is something my mother impressed upon me growing up. Anytime there is a beach trip, there is The List. It contains everything that is to be packed and taken. Oddly enough, there is always something forgotten from my mother’s list, which makes me question why I picked up the habit. On the bright side, I’m a single guy. This means I’m not responsible for taking bedsheets, food, or anything important. My list is going to be pretty short: Fishing Rod, Cast Net, Tackle Box, Bucket, 4 changes of clothes, mud shoes (my black Converse All-Stars from high school), Playstation 2, board games. Hell, I don’t even need to sit down to make the list now.
I haven’t decided when I’m driving down yet. I work Friday, and driving in Edisto at night time is pretty scary. It gets DARK there. (Which is one of the reasons I love the place so much. The night sky is full of stars!) Saturday is the Clemson-Carolina game, and I might want to stay in town to watch that at a bar. Sunday is when Koon and Red go down, which would give me a chance to follow them. *shrug* I’ll figure it out by Friday night.
So I pay a week without Internet or bar-hopping to spend a week of fishing with my dad and friends. (In my opinion, friends are the family that you get to pick for yourself.) I think I’m getting a pretty good bargain.

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