#hightideultimate

“To bask calmly and cautiously in a house of luxury?

Or to dwell in a humbler abode, where we know we can be free?”

These were the questions I asked myself on a cool spring day many years ago, as I sat with my feet crossed atop my dorm room desk. I was the captain of the disc-jockeys ultimate Frisbee team, a band of well-meaning souls, who loved to stir up their athletic blood, just as much as they loved to mingle it with spirited libations. Our team was planning to compete in the Hightide Ultimate Frisbee tournament in the coming months. We sought success on the field, as well as song and laughter at a house near the shore.

But what sort of house were we to take?

It had fallen to my lot to figure out whether I should put my team in a mansion, whose luxuriance was perhaps beyond our current taste, or a classic beach house which would fit my crew comfortably, and allow us to not hold back when the night would come around, and when rival disc-hurlers would become friends and fellow revelers.

I could not quite decide, for there were two conflicting voices inside of me. The first voice to speak was that of my fraternity brother—nicknamed Haze—who I must admit, failed out of school in the third semester. Haze’s raspy voice urged me towards this course of action:

“Go big Jimbo, go big! You’re gonna be an old man soon, sitting in an office, crunching numbers or something dull. Go for the rich house, and party like we did freshman year dude! Everybody is gonna be pumping their fists and chanting: Jimbo, Jimbo, Jimbo!”

I had heard the ‘Jimbo’ infused speeches of my fraternity brother all before. His was the same voice that told me not too long ago, to throw an absolute rager at my parent’s house when I was a sophomore. And yea, I’ll admit—it was a sweet party, but in the end there was hell to pay, once a bunch of volleyball dudes from a rival high school showed up and trashed the place.

“Bah!” I said in frustration. “Let me see if another idea comes to mind before I get me and my team in over our heads with damages. Though I’m looking for a good time, I should be careful about renting such a nice place.”

The next voice I heard did not speak immediately. In fact, it was a day or two before the soft and moderate accent of a beautiful Polynesian girl began bouncing through my head. I was relieved it was not Haze this time.

“Jimmy, can I tell you something?”

I told the second voice O.K.

“You should really keep your options open with this whole beach house thing.”

“What do you mean?” I said.

“All I’m saying is this, if you choose to rent the really nice house, you’ll have a forced hand. Of course, I know the house will be totally beautiful and well-kept, but you will have to make sure you keep it that way.”

“Yea, So? I don’t really party like I did freshman and sophomore year.” Jimmy murmured as he imagined himself taking a nap in the gorgeous living room of a beach palace.

“So… you will not be able to be too spontaneous, throw a huge party, or invite a bunch of freewheeling Frisbee folk looking for a good time. Whereas if you choose a more modest house, you will have options. You’ll be able party, or not, with no serious issues either way.”

She had a point, but I objected.

“And what if we do get the bigger house and we promise to keep it really nice?” As I asked this, I could have sworn that this second voice sounded like the cute girl that sits in front of me in my ethics class, named Sophia, who always asks Dr. Wright articulate questions about philosophers and stuff.

“Well, you just have to be sure that that’s a promise you and your fellows can actually keep. Otherwise this will be a week that was great while it lasted, but one that was not worth the trouble of the aftermath...”

This was the last I heard of Sophia’s pleasant voice of reason; if I wanted to hear it again, I would just have to talk to her after class next week. Side note—I did end up talking to her, we are friends now.

But, back to the story!

With the deadline just around the corner, I had a choice to make. I had heard two accounts, and was baffled at how creative my brain could be when I was not browsing aimlessly through the internet—or playing phone games. Even though I had options, I, Jimmy, or Jimbo, as Haze used to call me, still had a to make a single choice.

Sure, I could rent the luxury house, and have a good week, especially considering that my buddies and I were not as wild as we used to be. But I also had to consider fairly the second option, of keeping the week wide open for whatever fit the mood.

I faced the same choice all you High Tide athletes and revelers face when you come to Myrtle Beach. And though there is no clear-cut answer to the questions I had posed to myself, just be sure to listen to all the voices in your head, however strange they may sound to you, and decide upon your house accordingly.