Reason #301: Colossal Crab of Consumption

Posted at April 9, 2010

I just returned from a visit to my old hometown of Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The place hadn’t changed that much, same old tacky places and smiling faces. It never ceases to amaze me how many rooms can be piled on top of each other so close to the ocean. I would estimate that within a square mile of some of Myrtle Beach’s most densely developed oceanfront, there are more hotel rooms (or condo units) than in the entire country of Costa Rica. I guess some folks view that as a good thing. In fact, I believe a few greedy developers saw Myrtle Beach and got the notion to do the same thing here, hence the current mess in Jaco Beach, what many call “the Myrtle Beach of Costa Rica.” Thankfully the recent and ongoing economic crisis put the brakes on that out of control development. Anyways, I had a great time with my kids, who still live on the Grand Strand. We were coming home from dinner and a restaurant called the “Giant Crab” really “pinched” my attention (pun intended). The front of the restaurant was adorned with, guess what? You got it, a GIANT CRAB…actually of the Alaskan King Crab variety, a species one would have to venture thousands of miles away from Myrtle Beach’s shores to find. Nevertheless, I guess the owner of the restaurant thought the idea to be a great marketing ploy. It must work because this restaurant is about the size of the Pentagon. My daughter Emily was equally amused at my reaction to the idea of naming a restaurant “The Giant Crab” and then placing a big fake fiberglass replica of one on the facade. For me this restaurant stands as a monument to vacuous consumerism. I guess The Giant Crab would appeal to folks who like things big, and in Myrtle Beach, everything is a little bit bigger, including the waists of most of the tourists on the beach. I feel a little bad poking fun at my hometown, but not that much. I mean come on people, get a grip and let go of this mentality that more and more of less and less is better. Pretty soon there just isn’t going to be anything left to consume and from the looks of the many empty buildings I saw along the commercial corridors, it appears Myrtle Beach may be nearing that point of no return.