PLANET HOLLYWOOD
It was overcast our last night
here, and there was a slight drizzle. It didn’t bother us, as the weather
had been pleasant all week. We decided to go someplace nice for dinner,
so we went to Planet Hollywood. We’d heard about how we could get
“California-style cuisine” there, although we had no idea what that was.
Looking like a giant blue bowling
ball sitting there, Planet Hollywood was a chain-restaurant that was started by
Arnold, Stallone, Bruce Willis, and a few other 1980s action heroes. Like
its major competitor (Hard Rock Café), the lobby had a gift shop where you
could get mugs, shirts, key chains, and other things which could carry the
logo. Unlike Hard Rock Café (which has a location just about everywhere,
including one on Mars, I’m sure), most Planet Hollywood’s were located on the
West Coast. This was a chance to experience something I normally wouldn’t
have access to.
The ceiling of the lobby was
decorated with a giant alien ship from Independence Day (with corresponding
defending Earth planes), and a few other notable flying machines. This
décor carried throughout the dinning area, as there were props from various
movies scattered about. Some were more current, and others were
obscure. Some were both current and
obscure, like the motorcycle from Stallone’s horrible Judge Dredd.
After we ordered, we looked around the area and made a trivia game out of
it. Since we both worked within the TV listings industry (and by default,
got to be familiar with films), that was fun.
I had a nice onion-roasted chicken
breast, and the side greens were a healthier variety than the salads I’d
normally see at places. No ice burg lettuce here, as it was spinach,
kale, and things that looked like dandelion leaves. It was good food, but
not enough for me to consider it a different “cuisine” at all.
At one point, I needed to get up
and use the restroom. While movie-prop décor didn’t continue inside, it
done to appear really high-class looking, with a lot of hard wood and brass
fixtures. There was a guy in a suit standing in there, which seemed odd
to have someone loitering in the loo, so I paid him no attention.
When I came out of the stall, he
stepped towards the sink and turned the faucets on for me. I then figured
out what he was, the bathroom attendant you’re supposed to tip afterwards.
I also noticed on there was a shelf running along the length of the
mirrors which contain various bottles of cologne and boxes of cigars. As
the attendant handed me the fresh towel to dry my hands, he asked if the
“gentleman” care to try any, and pointed to the fragrances and stogies.
It took me a moment to realize that he meant me (I’m not used to being
called a gentleman), and politely declined. I had a Lincoln in my pocket, so I handed that to him
upon exiting.
I told Molly about my experience,
and she immediately went over to the ladies room to confirm if the same
treatment existed there. It did, but they didn’t have cigars. She said it was weird to have a lady hand her
a towel, but probably less weird than having a guy lurking in the men’s john.
I noted there was one good thing about the attendants hanging out there,
you know someone be there to assist if you happened to run out of paper.
This was a restaurant, but
considering the décor, the employees were use to patrons wandering around and
looking at things. We tried to be nonchalant about it, as not to annoy
the other guests. The bill was a little on the higher side than other
places we’d been during the week (discounting the dinner theatre), but it was
worth it for the ambiance.
It was now raining when we left, so
we made a mad dash for the car to keep from getting soaked. You don’t
want to put wet clothes in your suitcase, so we laid those out to dry.
Everything else was packed up (excepting what to wear for the trip back),
and enjoying the cool misty breeze from the balcony one last time, we sacked as
soon as we could. We’d be getting up early and starting the long trek
back north.
SOUTH OF THE BORDER
When Yankees cross the Mason-Dixon line , they realize the laws have changed.
Fireworks are illegal to purchase in New York (and technically to possess,
too). Sparklers are available in Pennsylvania and Maryland ,
but we have to further south in order to get the good explosive stuff. On
the drive down, once you’re within fifty miles of this location, you see a sign
for it every few miles. And when you’re within five miles, it’s a sign
every few yards. This is South of the Border, which I think is the
largest place within the country to obtain fireworks.
There’s over a dozen buildings just
for the explosive vendors, in addition to other eateries and distractions which
solely exist to make tourists part with ever more of their money. We cruised
past it on the way down, with the promise we’d hit it on the way back. It
made sense not to have a lot of items made with gun-powder that’d be sitting
for a week in trunk under the hot sun. Also there was the space issue, as
we wanted to make sure we had room for anything else might pick up first.
So we stopped on the way back, and
took a short time to look around. Molly wasn’t happy with the amount of
stuff I was planning on buying. She didn’t understand I was acting as an
arms dealer, because over half the stuff I was grabbing would be handed over to
Shawn (who would promptly pay me back). After I explained that, she still
wasn’t happy about it. In the end, I chose the martial bliss, and only
bought a small (but respectable) amount.
We stayed at a small motel with a
diner to end the first day of our drive back. The diner had pretty decent
breakfast specials going on, although I normally don’t want to eat a huge
amount before I’m going to be sitting in a car all day. I took the opportunity
to ask for a side of grits, as I hadn’t tried them yet. I’m not sure what
it’s made of, some sort of liquefied rice, but it smelled like something had
died and/or pissed in it. Yankee blood had nothing to do with not liking
it all. You can only find grits when you go down south, and as far as I’m
concern, they can stay there.
As this was our first extended
vacation together, it turned out to be pretty well. There were a few bumps in the road which
needed to be ironed out, but we knew what we’d need to work on for the next
trip. Molly said she usually went every year or every other year, so we’d
be going back before too long. Things are always changing, so they’d be
new things to see, and favorites to re-experience.
My family did travel a lot, but the
place we kept returning to time and time again was the cottage near Watertown . I knew
about watching an area change from season to season, seeing what was new, what
had closed, and which special haunts had changed hands. I would honestly
say I had a decent time in Myrtle
Beach , and it was a nice area, but for me it wasn’t a
place that I’d want to keep going back to year after year. Even though
there were things I didn’t get to see, going there once was sufficient.
Okay, even though this picture was
taken pretty early in the trip, I’m placing it here at the end of the log
because it’s too good not to use. As
it’s a shot of a sunset, it made sense to tuck it in at the conclusion of the
entry. Enjoy the view!
For current information on the places visited:
Planet Hollywood :
http://www.planethollywoodintl.com/locations/myrtle-beach/
South of the Border: http://www.thesouthoftheborder.com/
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