I'm back from vacation/the HSCT, and of course the weather continues to be dreary and miserable here in Pittsburgh. Myrtle Beach, on the other hand, was sunny, the temperatures hovered around 80, and it was less humid than I expected. If sociologists have any question about why Americans are moving southward and westward, they should really spend some time outdoors. Naturally I did get some sunburn, but for once it looks worse than it feels rather than vice versa. Several people have mentioned that I "got some color", kindly neglecting to specify that the color is a deep scarlet.

Some of the weekend's misadventures have already been described nicely elsewhere. I was part of the fivesome that went to a Myrtle Beach Pelicans Single-A baseball game. I was also part of the nineteensome that went to the NIFL game, as described by fellow shocked onlookers Mark, JQ, Craig, and possibly others to come.

If not for the three hours of surreal that was the NIFL, the wackiness highlight of the trip would have been Mt. Atlanticus. Mt. Atlanticus is a place where one can play Minotaur Goff. That's not a typo. Neither is that. Eighteen holes of monster, demon, and of course minotaur themed miniature golfing--including (it goes without saying) a labyrinth hole. This part of the trip included all of the following:

1. DEK unwisely taking someone in the previous foursome's advice that you could get a hole in one by hitting it in the water; all he actually got was a ball in the water, and more disturbingly, the ball we pulled out of the water was a different color than the one that went in. We hope it was a different ball, but the unnatural blue of the water made us wary of leaping to that conclusion.
   
2. The last several holes involved climbing up into what looked like the kind of treetop shelters that, say, Tarzan or perhaps a Monchichi would live in. This was not problematic in and of itself (except that several of us, um, larger guys commented along the lines of: "Stairs, my mortal enemy"); however, the higher we climbed, the less stable these structures seemed, until the 18th hole actually seemed as if it could plunge 4 stories to a very campy but painful death for 8 quiz-bowlers.
   
3. A long walk down the main drag of the city, where even late Sunday afternoon there was a Mardi Gras/Girls Gone Wild type atmosphere (and us, sadly, without our beads). We as a group seemed to be getting heckled at various times, presumably for not being (pick one or more of the following: cool, young, attractive, drunk) enough. In a related story, this walk also took us past the place where we, as quiz-bowl types, clearly should have been staying.
   
4. Yummy Indian food on the way back, and a disturbing amount of confusion how to get there, given that we had passed the place two hours earlier.
   
5. Miniature golf (sorry, minotaur goff) holes that actually had three or four potential pin placements; on several of the holes where a difficult location was in play that day, we correctly referred to them as "Sunday pin placements".
   

Miniature golf was played on Monday afternoon as well, after a trip to Shoney's breakfast (in this case, brunch) buffet, and that is where I acquired most of my "color".

All things considered, it was a truly excellent weekend. I hope NAQT continues to run their HSCT at convention centers in resort towns rather than in college towns emptied for the summer, and I hope they continue to invite people such as myself to come and lend a hand. And I wish gatherings with old quiz-bowl friends were not so few and far between for me nowadays, as this one reminded me that I started playing for the game, but I stayed for the fellowship with smart and interesting people.