CHARLESTON, SC —
Within 60 minutes of landing in Charleston, ordering a John Daly at 10am on a Wednesday seemed like a reasonable thing to do.
After dropping our bags at the hotel and trudging a mile or so through the thick southern air, Mrs. FSB and myself arrived at our first destination. With my head still full of airplane weirdness, I crossed the threshold of the Rutledge Avenue sidewalk, into The Hominy Grill, a bedrock breakfast joint in Charleston specializing in low country classics. It was our first stop on a four day tour as we ate and drank our way through The Holy City.
