Pedro's South of the Border

Anyone who’s driven I-95 through South Carolina knows Pedro – or Pedro’s billboards, at any rate. For miles and miles, Pedro teases drivers with puns and double entendres in lurid, day-glo colors (“Pedro’s fireworks! Does yours?” “Keep America Green – Bring Money!” etc. The billboards are impossible to miss. I don’t know what Pedro’s monthly outdoor advertising tab is, but holy cow, it’s got to be keeping some billboard company afloat.) Anticipation builds – how could it not? Just when you think, oh this South of the Border thing has to be a put-on, there in the distance it looms: Pedro’s Giant Sombrero. About the size and height of a water tower, the Sombrero has a glass elevator that ferries tourists nearly 200 feet in the air (cost: a surprisingly fair $1) to take in the view of Dillon, SC. And as soon as they return to earth, Pedro is waiting with a cluster of shops, restaurants, a hotel, a campground, mini golf, and even, unbelievably, a small amusement park. And all of it garish and loud and campy and tacky and culturally insensitive at best. South of the Border seemed to be the very alpha and omega of tourist traps, a quintessentially American place, embodying the very spirit of our vast, hungry, ever-consuming and easily disposable popular culture. Yet for all of Pedro’s leering at our bulging wallets, there was a kind of innocence about the place, too. An unspoken agreement on all parts that getting taken was part of the fun, part of the whole vacation experience, and besides, who doesn’t love a coconut painted to look like a shrunken pirate head? At South of the Border, everyone is in on the joke.

Can you see why I wanted to go? Can you understand the allure? It had been a long while since I’d driven that stretch of I-95, but a recent road trip from Hilton Head to Philadelphia reminded me that Pedro was still there, just waiting for me to get off my high horse and pay a visit. So, this past weekend, I did. I called first, just to be sure, and to ask a few questions. The man who answered the phone sounded both really busy and totally clueless. No problem. Many businesses in America have seemingly adopted that exact approach to incoming calls, so, like everyone else, I’m used to it. Here’s how that conversation went:

Me: Is South of the Border open?

Him: Yes.

Me: Is it true that the Honeymoon Suite has a taco-shaped bed?

Him: It’s a clam.

Me: A clam-shaped bed?

Him: Like on the beach. That kind of clam. (Note: are there other kinds of clams? Must investigate.)

Me: Awesome. How much?

Him: I don’t know. It’s not available. We only have one. It’s always booked.

Way to encourage the customer! Still, Pedro was open for business, and that’s all I needed to know. Arriving on a cool, overcast day, I immediately noticed two things: first, there were hardly any people there, and second, Pedro’s empire is clearly in a state of decay. I guess the former handily explains the latter. Maybe you could blame the high price of gasoline, but the kind of decline I saw takes longer than a single summer to happen. But I’m getting ahead of myself. When you leave I-95 and cruise into Pedroland, prepare to be dazzled by the quantity and variety of cast concrete animals. It’s like a refuge for escapees from Goonie Golf. Bulls, elephants, giraffes, apes, wolves, tortoises, dinosaurs, dolphins, you name it. These creatures are everywhere at Pedroland and God bless the management because you are actually permitted - no, encouraged - to climb, sit, and be photographed atop them. Don’t you just hate places that have, like, a full-size lavender-painted cement hippo and then yell at your kids when they try to hoist themselves onto its back? Me too. You won’t find that kind of nannying at South of the Border, mi jefe. You want to risk perching your baby on the head of a 7 foot long, 5 foot tall wiener dog? Have at it and bienvenidos.

The next thing you’ll notice are the shops. There’s Pedro’s Trading Post, Pedro’s Western Shop, Pedro’s Africa, Pedro’s Mexican Shop, Pedro’s Candy Store, Pedro’s Myrtle Beach Shop, and Hat World. And probably half a dozen more, believe it or not. Pedro tries hard to hold to the theme of each store, with mixed results. The Western Shop predictably leans heavily toward cowboy knickknacks and Native American tchotkes (think mandalas and drums. Also, peace pipes. I watched one elderly gentleman in a trucker’s hat pick up a peace pipe off of the counter, take a meditative draw on it, then put it back down as his wife shook her head in loving disapproval. I couldn’t help wondering how many other folks saliva had dried on that thing. Oh my God I need some Listerine just thinking about it.) The Africa Shop boasts some interesting carvings and a rack of brightly-colored traditional African garments. The Mexican Shop features lots of blankets, maracas, sombreros, and even a magnet memorializing Pope John Paul II. Pedro’s Myrtle Beach is home to a giant Great White shark and a coffee table made from a lobster trap. It’s also where you’ll find the most mystifying trinket in all of Pedroland: a glass bottle filled with buff-colored plastic beads of no discernible value, interest, or aesthetic appeal. Cost: $6.50. I guess people really will buy anything. Hat World was a delight, and I’ll probably forever regret not purchasing the giant yellow spider hat. The 8 dangling legs really framed my face in a surprisingly flattering way. And strangely enough, there was virtually no candy at Pedro’s Candy Store. Por que, Pedro, por que?

What all of the shops had in common was a dizzying array of the cheap, the ultra tacky - just mind-blowing acres of crap. And no matter the theme of the shop, crap made its way in. And in the midst of so much merchandising and shelving, there are bound to be all sorts of serendipitous and hilarious collisions.  My personal favorite: the Grim Reaper statue (ghoulish, full-color, 12 inches high, $17.50), displayed atop a decorative disk featuring the yin and yang symbols (6 inches in diameter, sturdy resin, $6.50), shelved next to the lounging and laughing Buddha porcelain (also $17.50), all directly beneath the aforementioned Pope John Paul II magnet.  And directly across the aisle from plastic statues of Pedro himself, wide-eyed and grinning and so raucously stereotypically “Mexican” that it frankly bordered on racism if not outright crossing the line. I’m sorry, but you’ve got to love it. I sure did.

There are multiple restaurants in Pedroland. I can only comment on one, however, and in that one, the burrito we ordered came out looking and acting suspiciously like a taco. Maybe it was unreasonable to assume that Pedro’s South of the Border could adequately dish up some Mexican food?

Head deeper into South of the Border and you’ll come to Golf of Mexico – Pedro does love a pun – and the amusement park, which is just north of Pedro’s Convention Center. (How the National Association of Broadcasters missed this location, I’ll never know.) Here’s where it started getting sad for real. The Sombrero ride was rusty and abandoned. The carrousel was still. The Ferris wheel was spinning unattended, at a speed faster than seemed sensible. The bumper cars worked, but what fun are bumper cars if you’re the only driver? The big draw, a relatively new rollercoaster, squatted next to the interstate riderless and silent. Most poignant of all was the shuttered building that once housed an attraction called “Pedro’s Reality Ride”. I couldn’t figure out what on earth that might have been, but looking around at the weeds growing through cracks in the asphalt, at the chipped and fading paint, the empty buildings, I could see that Pedro was taking another kind of reality ride, and it wasn’t pretty.   

Places like South of the Border are nostalgic from the moment they open. Was there ever an America so wide-eyed, such a cornfed rube, that Pedro wasn’t a winking irony? No, not really. But it’s pleasant to think so. To think of families, cruising toward sun-kissed beaches in sprawling station wagons, luggage tied to the roof, pulling into South of the Border for a bit of good-natured hoodwinking. Automobile culture, nuclear families, good, clean fun – the American dream, doled out with a big, gooey side of blatant capitalism. Not to mention explosives, girlie mags, tobacco, and beer. Did Pedro’s ever truly reflect who we were? Or has it always been an outrageously exaggerated tip of the hat to the more innocent past we like to imagine was ours? After all, ours is a new country, populated by folks who all come from someplace else. Maybe it’s in our collective dna to rush to fill all the empty spaces with symbols and memories, with an instant shared history, a harmless, fun sort of history that we can all fondly agree upon. Those famous good old days, right?

South of the Border is fading. Next time you’re racing up I-95, you might want to slow down and pull in. Your kids, distracted by Gameboys and i-Pods and Zunes, may not beg for the privilege quite as much as you once did.  And frankly, kids now are so hip and cool and post-ironic themselves that a trip to Pedro’s might result in their temporary blindness due to extreme eye-rolling. So what. Do it anyway. Because when South of the Border closes, as someday it inevitably will, it’ll be replaced by a clean, modern travel plaza. Sbarro, Starbucks, Burger King, an Exxon station. No herd of Technicolor cement dinosaurs, no faux-coconut bras, no rulers emblazoned with the words, “Peter Meter”.  Just another oasis on the highway, one you pull into in the middle of the night, bleary and hyper from too much caffeine, pissed off at the price of gas. Under the fluorescent light, surrounded by familiar logos, you could be anywhere. That feeling of dislocation - call it strip mall vertigo - that’s the new America.  Say what you want about Pedro. Laugh at how tacky and ridiculous and lame it all is. But when you park your car in the shade of the giant sombrero, at least you know where you are, amigo. You’re at South of the Border. As Pedro says, you never sausage a place.

 

Hey Facebook members! Visit Pedro’s South of the Border, a fan site I’ve created to celebrate the wonders of Pedroland. See photos, add photos, share your own Pedro memories, and make new friends – the kind of friends who know how to appreciate a well-executed Horny Hillbilly figurine.

Comments

[Kelley]

Thanks Sheri for telling us what has been going on in your life. I had a feeling something was up for awhile now. I really truely hope it all works out for you. I enjoy your show. Can't wait for you to come back to Zanesville !!

[Janet from South Carolina]

Sheri, I was about to wet my pants reading your comments and yet cry at the same time. I'm from SC and only about 60 miles from South of the Border. I use to cringe everytime someone would talk about it as it I was too good or hated the fact it was near where I was from. I finally went when my daughter was 8 and even though it was tacky it was definitely one of those unique places you will never forget. Needless to say I came home with a hermit crab and all the gear that you get with it thanks to PEDRO!

[Jeanne]

Hey Sheri
I love your show, listen everyone morning on Hilton Head. I also made the journey up I95 this summer to NY and stopped at Pedro's place. I hadn't been there since I was a kid and thought it would be fun for my son. He was just confused by the whole thing ! Maybe we should start a movement to rehabilitate Pedro ! Someone could make $$ amusing people on their long trips up or down I95. Say hi to Bob !

[jananna]

I had the feeling that something was going on with her and Mark. I missed yesterday's show -- did she say why they separated?

[Lynne Stevenson]

Ms. Lynch,
I wish I had known that you were coming to South of The Border. I work in Dillon and live in a nearby town and would have loved to have met you in person.
You are right about South of The Border being run down. It has been that way ever since the owner Allen Schaffer died a few years back and he left run of the place to his family. I don't even know if his family still owns it or not. You might not be aware of this, but before the Disney Corporation built Disney World down in Florida, they tried to buy some farmland right off of I-95 in Dillon County, but the farmers would not sell their land. Just think, you could have just as easily had your daughters screaming to go to Disney World instead...

[sheri lynch]

I DO read these, V. And BIG thanks to all of you who read these blog entries.

Hurtful or negative remarks and comments are never pleasant. That stuff used to hurt my feelings. But you get used to it after enough time. And also, I've had a real and true spiritual awakening. One of the blessings of that is that I no longer accept other peoples' negativity or hate as mine to carry. I hear it, but I understand that it really has nothing to do with me. I just happen to be the target in that moment. It sounds sappy or spacey or whatever, but I genuinely don't have that kind of rage or hatred inside me, especially not now.

I could delete comments that are nasty or negative, but I don't. To do that would grant the person who posted them a power that they simply don't have.

People can say whatever they feel. And if hating on me makes someone feel better, okay.

[Barbara]

Hi Sheri - I just have to say this- there are probably MANY more people like me who listen to your show because it makes us smile, feels like family, helps us to feel that we're all in this together. Recently, during the most difficult couple of years in my life, your show was like a life preserver to me. Iknow, it sounds dramatic, but it's true. I had no control over some things, but I could always count on you and Bob to start my day on an upbeat note, or at least to take my mind off my problems for a while when listening to people calling in who had worse problems than me. Now that things are more on an even keel, I just plain ENJOY listening to you guys! You're smart, funny, and you make me laugh out loud! And you're not afraid to show your real, soft side. What a breath of fresh air! Now, if only you would explain your spiritual awakening - I'm not the only one who wouldn't think it was sappy or spacey - I could use some of that! Keep up the most excellent work, and thanks for always being there.

[Tami B]

Sheri,

Loved the story about Pedro’s... as a kid I loved wax museums, weird I know but I was sad that most of them had closed down a few years (ok, a decade or so ago). We used to walk down the strip at the beach, it was putt-putt or wax museums because you could walk and feel grown… now, its only night clubs and stuff. None of the innocence stuff anymore, even Pedro is a victim of our fast paced society…
Oh well…
I owe you an update on my triathlon so here goes:
Me as the iron girl… or not
I did so-so.
Swim was good but could be better…
Will be better.
I was horrible at my first transition time…
Biking (my nemesis)… dramatic pause.
First mile, my nerves were shot.
I was shaking, actually tossed my cookies twice,
between the traffic and the road construction I was about to quit. (mentally cursing everyone who never taught me to ride in my youth before I became a big chicken)
But I stuck it out and on the second mile I broke away from the resort (Lake Lanier in Atalanta) traffic
and began to enjoy the ride… up/down… up/down terrain, (did I mention I was deathly afraid on going downhill and losing control and tumbling to my death, or worse… embarrassment!)
I even passed a few people, then tragedy…
The dreaded 6th mile as I was reaching the base of a rather steep hill,
I began to pedal to start the onset of the next hill when much to my surprise…
There was no resistance in the medals and I almost flew head first off the bike…
I down shifted to 1st, back up to 2nd… and so on…(yeah I was really experienced at this gear shifting thing…)
NOTHING happened!
I got off and walked it up the hill, jumped back on and glided downhill…
On the 7th mile there was bike assistance fella,
He flipped my bike over and started trying to get the gears to stick.
At this point, I knew it was a user error.
I had been anywhere from 1st to 8th gear due to the hills,
With my inexperience/fear of the bike, I am sure I did something wrong…
He jammed it in 3rd and said, “don’t move it, it may hold for the remainder of the course, just don’t change it”
I think he was pretty sure it was a user-error too.
Ok…off I went… by mile 10, everyone I had passed, Everyone: those that started after me, two girl scout troops, a hearse and an ambulance has passed me, no wait, the ambulance stayed behind me that was eerie but I suppose the hearse would have been worse.
I decided I couldn’t ride up another hill in 3rd gear…
So on the side of the road somewhere between mile 10 and mile 11 a girl and her bike was on the side of the road.
She had the “click-in-the-pedal” shoes (yep, I’m an amateur), and she looked sad.
So I stopped, for her, for me, who can say?
I asked her what’s wrong, turned out her gears change on the bike middle bar between the seat and handle bars. (yeah, I didn’t get either but I was happy to be off that bike and talking to someone else besides myself… it was getting awfully busy in my head).
She was not aware there’d be so many hills nor this steep, but when she changed gears, she fell in the road…
I’m thinking those damn shoes… no quick eject on those things!
And then came the ambulance, of course nothing’s hurt but our pride…
All that to say, I kicked butt in the run but my biking time was over...
All in all, it was ok.
But there is so much room for improvement, it is unreal!

I learned I can swim, I can run, but the biking is not my favorite… but next time- who knows!

On the topic of negative people and their comments, I feel sorry for them… In most cases, it is their own misery pouring out, due to jealousy, unhappiness, or just discontent. Either way, it’s their problem, it’s well within each of our control to determine how much we allow ourselves to live in a emotional state. People tend to be so wrapped up in how they “feel” about things, people, and situations that it clouds their judgment and their ability to think rationally and behave appropriately. As a society we spend way too much energy living our lives based on emotions, not to say we should live cold, unaffectionate lives but we should be more particular on what and who we spend our precious energy on. For instance: a slow cashier at Walmart or an insurance denial on medically necessary treatment… I vote for emotional energy conservation… Accept what we cannot change and wisdom to recognize when we can’t change them! Or something like that!

[P Bear]

Sheri...do you remember your trip to "Little America" in Wyomong. You wanted to take the Penquin home.

[P Bear]

OOPS.. Wyoming.

[Kimi]

I grew up one town over from Dillon in a smaller place called Lake View. In elementary school we used to have field trips to where? No other than good ole South of the Border! Now this was 18 years ago but I did think it was pretty amazing then although it did not take me long to figure out the truth. Now I just pass by and wonder how in the world they make enough to not only employee people and keep it running, but seriously, how can they afford all those signs??

[Shelly]

What a wonderful blog about stopping at Pedros.I always have those special memories as a child.My father treated us to Pedros and many others like it. Truly cherished memories. So sad to see these places fading away.I listen to your show every morning on the way home from work.It makes me forget about the crappy night that I just had.

[sandy]

our 10 year old grandson came from new york for a visit. NY to NC, what a drag! he's been to the water parks, myrtle beach, arcades etc etc. Everything with these kids now is "been there done that"!! We took a ride to South of the border one day and a whole new world opened up to him. He was amazed he could sit on all the animals for FREE. his imagination kicked in and he went wild! Every concrete animal, every store, every hat in the hat store! And Sheri, you are so right. No one yell's, no one say's "get off" this was one of the most fun days he had and one of the least expensive for us.Parents, you need to take the kids to this tacky, trashy wonderful place!

[Karen]

Sheri,

When are you going to blog again????

[Jesi]

Its so funny that you mention South of the Border! I live in Hilton Head and was just talking to a colleague that lives in Charleston about SofB... I've never been and she said that its nothing much to see now, but I have to go to at least experience it! Thanks for sharing the highlights, Sheri.

[JD]

Hi Sheri. I love the show. You and Bob are great. Congrats to you on your first triathalon.

Thanks for sharing about South of the Border. I live some 40 miles away, here in South Carolina and went there on several occasions as a child. My children would probably love it. Guess I should take them. Thanks for sharing your experience. And please tell me that you are proudly displaying a flourescent South Of The Border bumper sticker on your car! That was absolutely my favorite thing about going there. Free bumper stickers. (I think many people left there not even knowing someone had put one on their car)My bedroom door was covered with them. And yes..I had a black light to complete the effect.
Have a great day and keep up the good work.

[Darci]

Can't believe you went to South of the Border! You wrote so eloquently about it--hard to describe... We went there when I was 12 or 13...almost 20 years ago...and even then it was starting to fade. The paint was peeling and the place was nearly empty. But it was a totally mesmerizing experience to see so much STUFF...it was like a Super Walmart for cheesy trinkets and dollar store plastics. We had a blast there! You're wickedly funny and a masterful storyteller--rock on sista!

[Yvonne]

Hey Sheri, I'm sorry to have to ask this. Did I hear you talk about going out on a date with this guy with sunglasses on your show today? Where is Mark? Oh no don't tell me... Looking to hear from you.
Yvonne

[terri]

Hi Sheri,

Your post about the Great Pedro was so funny and sad too. I live about 5 minutes from the place and can see the "big hat" from my back yard. My sister and I worked there during the summer before our senior year of high school ('94). Back then, the founder/owner was very sick but came about every morning to each shop and made sure as best he could that all was going well. The place has really gone down since he passed. It was nice to see you blog about something so close to me.

[Cindy]

Hello, Sheri. I truly enjoyed reading your blog about South of the Border. I went their with my family back before I had a family of my own. Thanks for the memories you described so vividly. I only wish someone could repair the place before it's gone forever.

[Liz]

HAHA! So I live in Florence, South Carolina. I drive all day for work and see those rediculous signs constantly and sometimes have to work way to close to SOTB! I just don't get it. I feel bad for the people who are driving from out of town and see the specticle and assume that all of SC is like that. LOL!

South of the Border was on msn.com for the worst tourist traps in the world; along with the leaning tower of Pesa, and the Eifel Tower. Watch out world here we come!

Well, anyway you made me smile with the blog. Keep up the good work. I listen to ya'll every morning!

Liz

[Karen]

Sheri,

PLEASE blog again. we need to know what is going on with you!!! Tell us about Mark and what is happening in your life.

[donna c.]

As a Carolina Girl, I know about every term you used. As a child, a S.O.B. sign was the count down to grandma's house.
Once, while riding along with B-ma and Papa, they never fussed...until, as everyone does up and down I-95(adult and child), one sign too many was read out loud. It said, "another cotton pickin sign for South of the Border". Well, how anyone could get into a fuss over that, I could not have known, but I guess the grandparents were tired of us youngsters reading every- neon- sign, trying to see it before the other...and it struck a grandparent's nerve ... "another cotton picken sign for South of the Border". So much truth was in that statement, unwanted truth! So much frustration from two little old people with their grandchildren yelling with excitement that we had almost reached our goal ever quarter of a mile, or less if Pedro so chose.
...It was just 16 years ago that I was married, the new husband (still my hubby), chose to not stay with the family that evening and have a nice meal, but chose instead to stop for something to "eat"--not to stay-- on the way to Myrtle Beach. (We were just "passing" through, if you know what I bean- mean, sorry). What a puff- ruff start to a really good marriage-
Then, twelve years ago, I got on IT, with legs locked and my white knuckles on the Ferris Wheel bar, as my 2 year old seated, feet dangling beside me, smiled and waived at her own grandma looking at us comfortably from the earth so safe below! By the way, I hate those things...nice to look at, but HATE to ride them. (my momma thought I was smiling at her too...NOT! that was clinched teethe!) The entire time I was smile-talking telling my treasured child "DO NOT MOVE."
Thirty-five years later, fewer sign (and yes they are still numerous but fewer) and a child of my own, who tortured me with 321 miles to South of the Border (aka: home),105 miles to... 99 miles to.. 98 miles to.. 3 miles to....making the travel long and yes we looked forward to "another cotton pickin sign for South of the Border".
I now understand the fuss from the front seat of that old Buick driven by the gentle, twisted fingers of my arthritic B-ma. To me, South of the Border.... is a passage of time...it is HOME. Like you, Sheri, I would really hate to see Pedro pass away into the void of days gone. Tourist Trap- yes, most definitely. Memory-filled, very much so. I salute you for writing this blog...thank you for helping me remember the simple things that are right here at me. HOME FAMILY and yes, another "cotton pickin sign for South of the Border!"

[Ron]

Sheri
Thanks for sharing this. I used to live in Chas, SC. I always saw the road signs, but never paid the place a visit. I think it's sad to say that those roadside icons are becoming a thing of the past.
Your blog reminded me of a trip to Destin Fla when I was 12 or 13. Then, Destin was a cozy little cottage/fishing town. It was a family trip and my brother and I rode from Atlanta with my uncle. We stopped at a few places like Pedro's along the way. The sad thing is that when we become adults, moms and dads, we lose the innocent sight of wonder and awe that a place like Pedro's would give us because we are so busy and involved in everything else except for the simple pleasures of life's past.

I love the morning show and wake to it almost every day. You guys are a riot! Love Ya!
Namaste Ron

[Diane]

Sheri, thanks for the hilarious post. You are so right about South of the Border. I should know as I live in Dillon, SC. South of the Border is not always so deserted though. On warm days in the summer, it is pretty busy at times. The younger crowd in Dillon likes it anyway because we can go across the line from SC to NC (only a few miles) and buy alcohol on Sundays at the convenience stores right beside it- so it has its perks after all. Also, I remember my friend Jennifer and I, as teenagers, walking on the bridge which was lit up at night with our various dates through the years. Good memories.