Into the great unopened
By Smoky Weiner
There’s an area of Folly that only I and a few select others know. I don’t mean to sound like a know-it-all or anything, but it’s true! The size of this area is probably about twenty five percent of the entire Folly Beach area and yet not one of us has ever seen all of it. It is an amazing wonderland of wildlife and nature, and yet also one of human technology, engineering and creativity; sometimes quite a bit of creativity. Yes, I’m talking about the deep unseen catacombs of Folly, where the air is cool and dank, even in the heat of a summer’s day. “Caves?” you say, “But there are no caves on Folly!”. Yes, there are. Listen carefully on the right day, usually in the late afternoon, and you can hear a tapping sound followed by a soft whirring, and every once in a while a little “barking” sound, like steam escaping with a sudden halt on the final “sst”. Yes, it’s me or one of my brothers. We are under your house.
I mention this large and largely undiscovered area because of our pressing demographic problems. More and more people are coming to the island and trying to stay. We are running out of room. Where can we put them? What can we do as a society or at least as a municipality? The answer: R-2 ½ , or two point five zoning. Call it what you like. As I lay deep under a house one day, I thought about how the place above me used to be a one story house, which eventually had a second floor added and was later knocked down and replaced with the present day thirty nine foot, eleven inch tall building with thirty five percent lot coverage. “What are they going to do next?” I thought. I was sprawled out on my work blanket which was on top of a plastic vapor barrier laid on the ground. I had my radio nearby playing the news on NPR. I had a diet coke and plenty of lights and it was the only cool place to be on this really hot day. Where else can you get that outside of being in the water? Some folks are afraid of the creatures that might be under a house, but will just jump right into water teeming with sharks and Portuguese Man of War. I don’t mind the sub-domicilian creatures. They are not harmful, but are rather hiding from those who would do them harm. I feel exactly the same way about the underneath of a house. When I’m under there, I feel safe. Capital One may call, but they are damn sure not coming down there. Even big bad burly cops with divorce papers won’t come after you down there. In this world of nagging wives, fighting kids, unpleasant bosses, deceitful co-workers and unrelenting telemarketers and collection agencies, it is actually pure bliss under a house and the nastier it looks to the untrained eye, the safer I feel. The spiders will not bother you, they enjoy the occasional lighting. I hardly ever see live animals down there, either. I guess when they see me, they figure I’m there to eat them so they leave.
Some day, the real estate people will discover this new area and convert it into naturally cool, energy efficient living areas (and then it will be taxed). Just remember where you heard it first.
