Choose Charleston

Every now and again, I run through the local Craigslist just to catch a sense of what folks are buying, selling, or trading. What kinds of gigs are emerging, what openings for talent are on the upswing, and who is scouting out whom?

The method, I’ll grant you, is hardly scientific. Its fundamental limitation is that it only speaks of the segment of the population that chooses to use online posting to announce its hopes and dreams.

Some of it is truly scary. “Surely not in gentle Charleston,” I have whispered many a time while going clickety-click through the ads.

We could simply blame ‘bots for anything too out of character, of course, but it is also true that these are changing times and a changing place. People are moving to the South Carolina Lowcountry at an increasingly rapid rate, each bringing their own individual blend of ideas and expectations into the big old melting pot of Frogmore Stew we call home.

Even old Charleston, South of Broad, has absorbed its share of incoming new money from the North as of late.

We still have our cobblestone and the soft clop-clop of horse hooves from the carriage tours but we also have an emerging digital corridor and a medical district that is soaring skyward like something out of Jack and the Beanstalk.

Strange days may be ahead for this rapidly changing place.

From Friday, August 3 to Sunday, August 5, the South Carolina sales tax holiday will help back-to-school shoppers stock up on clothing, calculators, computers, and comforters as well as pens, pencils, printers, and pillows.

Wallets, watches, and World of Warcraft gold will not be eligible, sad to say.

The idea is to help working folks out with paying for the ever-expanding list of must-have supplies that school age ch’urns bring home when they receive their homeroom assignments. Whippersnappers grown high enough to head off to college rack up even more expenses for the ‘rents, best you believe, so the tax free weekend helps there also.

Need a nearly exhaustive list of what may or may not qualify? The good folks at the South Carolina Department of Revenue have been kind enough to post exactly that as well as a sales tax holiday faq.

Local is the big buzz-word in food these days, outpacing organic by a long chalk.

The “old” food distribution system (which, of course, is still very much in effect and still moving the vast majority of food) always was a head-scratcher for me, personally.

How exactly is it more economical to ship shrimp from Southeast Asia all the way to South Carolina when we already have had shrimp fishermen aplenty harvesting local waters?

Crazy as it sounds, it is actually the truth of the situation: It’s cheaper to buy product that has been hauled halfway around the globe than to buy from the farmer who lives next door. Please explain the logic.

The simple answer is that the system is just set up that way. It’s all about planes, trains, boats, and big rigs, contracts and warehouses, economics and business as usual; you know - the system.

None of which has stopped a growing number of consumers from trying to draw attention to the fact that, in the United States, small farms and local producers have been slowly going the way of the Dodo for quite some time.

Some shrug it off as “just the way it is.”

Others choose to make it known that they support small farms and local producers. With the launch of the Certified South Carolina effort, there is now a way to at least know which apple is local and which is from far away.

The beginning of a new (well, really, a return to an old) way of thinking about food or a final show of support before the last few traditional family farmers are forced to retire the John Deere and take jobs in middle management like everyone else? We’ll see in time.

Early afternoon thunderstorms drenched the South Carolina Lowcountry on Saturday. It was pouring down so hard at points that visibility dropped on the highways and slowed traffic to a crawl.

It put a bit of a dent in the heat. But with August gearing up right around the corner, these runs of hot, hot, hot are not going away anytime soon. More, once all that rain soaks way down deep in the soil, grass and kudzu are going to spin up toward the sky like magic beans had been planted. Better get the lawnmowers and weed-whackers ready!

And more is on the way. Today and through most of the coming week, cloud cover and a chance of thunderstorms are the watch words.

Far, far away, beyond Goose Creek and near the shore of Lake Moultrie, there is a quiet place of canals and woods…

If you want the inside scoop on the country charm of Moncks Corner, you could hardly go wrong with Moncks Corner Moments, a personal blog written by the ever adroit and charming Heather Solos. She also manages the local blog round-up, Lowcountry Blogs, for Charleston’s Post & Courier and, together with BigBadIvy, she pens the sassy and savvy Home Ec 101.

In the remaining hours of the day, or so I’ve heard, she also squeezes in a bit of eating, sleeping, and the raising of ch’urns.

The drive to charming Moncks Corner from gentle Charleston can take the better part of an hour so it is best to have your itinerary well planned. There is natural beauty in abundance: Cypress Gardens, Old Santee Canal Park, and the gardens of Mepkin Abbey, as well as opportunities for boating, fishing, or just wandering down a good old-fashioned Main Street.

Now, some folks will claim that Moncks Corner is named for the Trappists who live simple lives of labor and contemplation at Mepkin Abbey. This is actually not true. Moncks Corner is named for George Monck, Duke of Albemarle, who was one of the Lords Proprietors.

The Lords Proprietors, of course, were a group of English gentlemen who helped Charles II regain his throne from the scurrilous Oliver Cromwell. Charles II was very, very happy about having his throne back (wouldn’t you be?) and rewarded the men with land grants in the Carolinas.

Now, all this talk of history makes one hungry.

Luckily, when it comes time to feast, be it midday or ’round about suppertime, there are ample diner-style eateries available in the center of town.

Of course, fair is fair, last time I was Moncks Corner, I was pressed for time so I took the Sonic Drive-In option: BLT and a Tropical Mango Iced Tea, yum yum.

The young lady at the window provided the friendliest service I’ve seen in a good long while.

We ventured out into the heart of the sightseeing crowds Wednesday afternoon, mostly because there are some top-notch restaurants in the area and also because, hey, it never hurts to renew your sense of what is changing, what is staying the same.

We avoided the worst of it by staying off of Market Street. But Meeting Street - in the vicinity of Charleston Place, Hyman’s, and Sticky Fingers - gathers its own crush of pedestrians ’round about suppertime.

Our reservations were actually at another restaurant - FIG, one of my favorites. But we had a bit of spare time, so we ambled along the storefronts, playing tourist in our own town, as it were, and even strolled through some of Charleston Place. We passed a young gentleman fussing with the staff of Waldenbooks over their return / exchange policy and then we ambled into Brookstone to sample the massage chairs.

On our way back down Meeting Street, we got called over by one of those folks who sell tour packages. Mind, I said that he called us over, not that we accepted his offer to stand there while he launched into a sales pitch - we made no response other than to laugh when he asked what we were doing while we were Charleston. Hmm, let’s see, while I’m “in Charleston,” I tend to eat, sleep, work, watch TV, read, commute, put gas in the truck, get oil changes, shop for groceries, mow the lawn, take the garbage to the curb on Monday and the recycle bin to the curb on Wednesday, and basically do all of the things one does when living in a town.

For Pete’s sake.

I really dislike that particular street vendor tactic - shouting out to passersby to try to sell tour packages - and, if I’m not mistaken, the city has asked the tour companies to stop doing this on numerous occasions. It’s tacky. It makes you feel like you are at a carnival.

I don’t blame the kids who are doing it - they are just following their instructions so that they can earn extra cash to help offset skyrocketing tuition costs. I just feel that it is a flawed sales theory. Any additional sales that are made are bound to be offset by sales lost from those who are offended by the tactic.

It’s early Monday morning, coffee is brewing, and the cats are at the window, watching light wash into the world outside. I spent half the weekend in the world of muggles (mowing the lawn, trimming the edges, and resolving an attack of climbing weeds around an old-growth gardenia) and the other half lost in the land of Harry Potter.

Today, it’s back to the salt mines!

Today is also the day for the cats to have their annual check-up at the vet, which makes today’s choice for free & local easy enough.

Locals have been sending their Boykins to fetch Lowcountry Dog from the shelves for the last three years. With distribution points from Beaufort all the way up to Pawley’s Island, it is fast becoming a solid fixture of area veterinarian offices, pet supply stores, grooming salons, and even regular people places.

This is a snazzy looking glossy featuring high quality photography from some of the top names in the regional shutter trade and oodles of information on all things canine.

It probably speaks volumes of Charleston, in particular the historic district at the tip of the peninsula (where the Ashley and Cooper Rivers meet to form the Atlantic Ocean), to note that surrounding areas are referred to as “East of” or “West of.”

The land west of the Ashley River was predominantly rural until the later years of the twentieth century. Longtime residents have shared many a tale of childhoods spent watching cows from the Coburg dairy grazing along what is now Savannah Highway and driving Ashley River Road through a tunnel of live oaks that stretched from the Maryville/Ashleyville area all the way to Summerville.

Today, the “West of” area is one of the most rapidly changing parts of the South Carolina Lowcountry. There are exciting areas of renewal (like the Avondale neighborhood with its new growth of boutiques, restaurants, and young professionals moving in) as well as heated controversy over new developments encroaching on protected wetlands and historic sites.

The dynamic nature of the area and the growing number of people with an active interest in it makes the local community newspaper, West Of, all the more important. Publisher Lorne Chambers spent four years as the music editor and distribution manager for Charleston City Paper before launching West Of in February 2005. An alumnus of College of Charleston, Chambers knows his territory well.

Look for a finely honed focus on local news inside as well as a calendar chock full of area happenings.

For someone with wee ones who is new in town, this publication is handier than a sack full of moist towelettes and Zweiback.

If you’re looking for the skinny on summer day camps and mom-friendly businesses, this recently relaunched glossy will steer you right. Formerly a much slimmer and smaller periodical, Lowcountry Parent got all shined up and polished when it was purchased by the Greenville News. Today, it sports a bright, clean look and a plethora of handy tips on the theory and science of rug monkey raising.

Got kids in one of the local schools? No need to try to find a place where you can pick this one up - the schools hand them out.

Odds are you can find a recent copy of Lowcountry Parent by rooting around in the 50 to 100 pounds of papers, books, notebooks, and supplies the young’ins are lugging around in their backpacks these days.

 We continue our discussion of free & local periodicals with the paper one is most likely to grab when new in the area (and looking for the lowdown on what is what and why): Charleston City Paper.

Fair is fair disclosure: I am a regular contributor to this paper.

Some say it all began, many years ago, with a tall stranger on horseback. The hooves clacked and echoed along King Street as crowds of college students, stunned into silence, watched.

“You there,” the newcomer to town said, pointing toward a young man. “If you wanted to know what band is playing at Cumberland’s tonight, where would you look?”

The young man had no reply.

“Mm,” said the newcomer. He turned toward another. “You, there. I see around me a vast constellation of eateries. How am I to know which offers not only the most succulent fare but also the best service and value for my dollar?”

The poor child could only peep. It was worse than the newcomer feared.

“And your alternate news source, where might it be found?”

The crowd could only shrug. One brave soul asked, “Alternate?”

And so the newcomer set to work.

Okay, fair is fair again, so it may not have happened exactly that way, but the fact remains that the beginnings of Charleston City Paper were marked by a blur of activity by a mere handful of staff. You could count them on the fingers of your hand. They raised the paper into being from the ground up by writing, photographing, editing, procuring ads, designing and proofing pages, even distributing all by themselves.

More than a decade later, Charleston City Paper is a serious force in local culture, producing in-depth coverage of major arts festivals and events, and it is the go-to source for finding reviews of local shows, news of local interest, and cuisine features you can sink your teeth into.

And, yeah, there is a bit of attitude and snark in there as well. Some are upset by that. But those who cannot laugh at themselves… well, you know the rest.

City Paper takes a bit of ribbing on occasion, but I will say this: go to other towns and look for the local alt press paper. Find one and hold it side by side with Charleston City Paper. Unless you happened to grab a Village Voice, you’re going to notice right away that CCP holds considerably more pages, more weight, and the quality of the writing and art tends to be much better.

Chalk that up of years of dedication and refusal to compromise by a founding staff who simply pressed forward when others shook their heads.