Big Red Car here. The Boss is wandering around on Daufuskie Island — apparently the most relaxing place he has been in a recent series of very relaxing places.
Spotty cell phone service and weak Internet service but I think that may all be a subterfuge to avoid and ignore the rest of the world. He can be like that sometimes.
Big thing about Daufuskie Island when compared to the Great State of Texas, at this time of year, is the weather. Bit cooler up there. Remember the rest of the country celebrates a season that is called “fall” and is just ready to start. Not too much fall in Texas.
Hell, they send their kids back to school in mid-August up here. No kids crowding the beaches and absconding with all of the fun. Daufuskie is not an island for kids on its best day. Mostly very white Republicans licking their wounds and drinking iced drinks and plotting their revenge.
Pro tip: You can get a drink called “Scrap Iron” which is made with genuine moonshine. Do not take more than a couple of novelty drinks of it per week. You will thank me for this. On the other hand, if you had never been drunk out of your gourd, teetering on the edge of alcohol poisoning, then imbibe at will. Consequences be damned. Remember who told you about it — Scrap Iron.
Daufuskie is anchored — it’s an island, so it’s always anchored, Big Red Car — between Hilton Head and Tybee Island. Nice anchorage.
Here’s the show stopper — completely private, only reachable by ferry. In this instance, the “ferry” is a fishing boat that picks you up on Hilton Head and thirty minutes later deposits you on Daufuskie.
No cars on Daufuskie, only golf carts. Lots of golf courses, not many players. Saw two today. Daily limit is only four or so. Remember to use bird shot and to lead them when they’re driving carts.
Nice stable, so you can tour the Haig Point, Melrose Plantation and Bloody Point developments on the back of a horse. Nice way to explore your virtual plantation. These were all plantations once upon a time. More than a bit of history here.
One of the big show stoppers is the Strachan Mansion which was barged up from St Simons Island in 1986 and renovated. World class and one of a kind.
For you literary snobs, this is the island of The Water is Wide by Pat Conroy, famous Citadel grad and Low Country writer who taught school here for a year right out of the Citadel.
Since the dawn of the Internet there are those who have lusted after the possibility of “working remotely”. It started out as a bit of a joke? Nah, Big Red Car, it was always the real thing.
In any event, now with the advent of technology of all kinds the ability to work remotely is not only the real thing — wait for it — it may be a better thing.
So, brilliant young CEOs, stop beating yourself up because you can now “vacation” with the family in exotic places like Daufuskie Island or Highlands, NC or Steamboat Springs and get up early, answer all of your emails and do some creative work at night when the bambinos are sleeping — which they will be if you let them near the Scrap Iron.
Stop the guilt, it’s OK to work remotely, smarter and live your life well. Check with your significant other for validation.
What is a vacation now anyway?
If the President can con you into thinking that he is working remotely on Martha’s Vineyard — Mom jeans, ice cream socials, golf, bit more golf while the Middle East continues to implode — why the Hell can’t you do the same?
Hell, you’re the President or Founder or CEO or big dog at your company and he’s just the President of the United States of America, right? Sure he’s a much better con artist than you’ll ever be, but WTF?
Hey, as an aside if the US were a venture backed deal, would that guy still be running the show or would the VCs have replaced him a long time ago. Big Red Car is betting they would be cutting his undergarments up for rags by now.
Stop the guilt, it’s OK to work remotely.
The Boss is constantly talking to folks who are telling him — “Well, I’m going to be on Nantucket for a month or so but I’ll be working my deal from there.”
Stop the guilt, it’s OK to work remotely. Tell folks: “Hey, I’m operating out of Nantucket for a month or so. Call me early. Call me late. Just don’t call me late for dinner.” You have to be of a certain age to understand why that’s funny.
So, here’s the advice for today — stop the guilt and go to Steamboat and ski while working remotely, go to Huatulco and bathe in the sun while working remotely, go to Daufuskie Island and do nothing [well, except walking under the towering pines, hanging at the pool, putting some nice horseflesh between your legs, reading, writing and relaxing] while, you guessed it, working remotely. The Hamptons? Check. Big Sur? Check.
Just watch those time zones.
Do you really think that anyone is going to be able to tell the difference in the quality of your work? Nahhh, bro, it’s not going to happen. Feel the love here, amigo. It’s not going on your tombstone that you missed the chance to get both sunburned and work remotely. Promise made. Promise kept.
Will you be able to determine the difference in the quality of your life? Affirmative, Old Sport. Affirmative. You will be a bit happier and isn’t that why you’re working so hard to start with?
So, cut the crap. Work remotely. Stop the guilt. You are not the guy who fucked things up in the Middle East. Even if you are, consider working remotely from the beaches of Beirut. Truth.