After 8 years on the road, we finally made it to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Unlike Centralia, Myrtle Beach actually attracts visitors, who play miniature golf, eat at seafood buffets, and wear airbrushed clothing. Some go to the “Dixie Stampede,” a Dolly Parton-owned venue where you get treated to dinner and a civil war re-enactment (where the South *wins*). Some stay in oceanside motels called “The God Bless America Motel.” Some stay in oceanside motels called “The God Bless America Motel Too.” Some of them strap American flags to their fishing poles. Some of them strap Confederate flags to their motorcycles.
In any event, you thrust Guster into an environment like this and everyone is pretty happy. A day off by the beach can do a lot for morale, plus we got to use the metal detector we’d been carrying on the bus the whole tour. The crowd at the show was loud and spirited (except when we asked how many people there were *actually from Myrtle Beach*), we threw in a Ben Folds cover for the heck of it, and I wore shorts on stage even though Guster Inc. generally frowns upon the idea.