I have a public service announcement for people who are considering, or may consider at some point in the future, travel to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina: do not travel to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

I can hardly decide what to do with my free time: Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede, Ripley's Believe it or Not Aquarium, Medieval Times, Magiquest (which looks like it might be responsible for a lot of parental suicides), a NASCAR theme park, the Carolina Opry, one of two enormous factory outlet malls, or sitting in my hotel room silently weeping, cutting myself, and contemplating gorging myself to death on a $9.99 all-you-can-eat fried batter buffet.

It's a tough call. I dread having children solely out of fear that I would have to take them someplace like this, up to and including Disneyworld if Myrtle Beach turned out to be insufficiently plastic for his or her tastes.