Last week was family vacay. We’d originally planned a trip to Bah Mar in Nassau, but given the impending arrival of grandson number 2, we opted to remain stateside–and close to the hospital. As usual, this nervous flyer was sitting at the bar in Charlotte, NC, awaiting her next flight, when the bartender drawled, “Where y’all headed?”

Y’all, I thought. Is she talking to me? “Me? Myrtle Beach.”

“Ah, Dirty Myrtle. That’s a wild place. Y’all staying where the action is?”

OMG! I’m a septuagenarian! Do I look like I could handle action? And what’s this Dirty Myrtle stuff? Granted, I hadn’t been there in fifteen years, but I don’t recall it being dirty. “Where’s the action? I’m staying at Sands.”

“Good for you. You’re a ways away from the action.”

Hmm. Maybe. But maybe, I was missing out on something. Damn, at my age, I can’t afford to waste time; I have FOMO. So I need to research this. Unfortunately, there seems to be no definitive explanation for Dirty Myrtle. Some say there was an old popular beer by the same name. Others suggest it’s due to the Atlantic Ocean’s color on this stretch of the beach, which is murkier than the water to the north or south. Yet, its nickname could have come from the 90’s, when Myrtle Beach was known for its strip joints and nightclubs.

After reading all of this, I was intrigued. I’d have to drink a Dirty Myrtle, gaze at the brown water, and go in a strip joint. Much to my disappointment, I didn’t find Dirty Myrtle Beer, nor did I even see a strip club! Thankfully, though, the Atlantic was clear and blue–probably due to lack of rain. We had great time beaching it; my grandson loved it; the weather cooperated.

I saw no evidence to corroborate the Dirty Myrtle nickname, until I was Ubering toward the beautiful airport: