Here's an interesting one for you.
A few years ago I went to visit my parents in Myrtle Beach, SC for Thanksgiving. It was my year without the kids (meaning that they were with their mother that year), so I went alone and got to spend some good one-on-one time with my parents.

My parents have a condo in one of the high rises that line the beach, and their daily ritual is to walk a mile and a half down the beach and back. I joined them, of course, and we had a very nice stroll.

As we walked along the high rises abruptly stopped, and there was a long expanse of open land to my left. I've been coming down there ever since I was a young teen, and remembered this area from then. I frowned at it as we walked. "Mom? Why has this land never been developed?"

Mom looked at where we were passing and made a vague gesture. "It belongs to some meditation center. They're some religious organization, so they don't have to pay taxes on it."

Now I was intrigued. "So how do you get in there?"

Dad pointed. "See that sign next to that trash barrel? Now see that path going between the dunes?"

"Interesting... so what do you know about it?"

Dad shrugged. "Nothing at all, really. Just that it's been there for a very long time."

This was like flashing a burger at Rosie O'Donnell. My focus was fixed. So I waited until night, put on a black jacket and some new jeans, then went for a walk. I sneered at the No Trespassing sign as I went between the dunes, the path dimly lit by the reflected light on the clouds over Myrtle Beach. I walked back through dimly lit woods past a couple of small lakes, about a half mile of a vague sand road under twisted oak trees festooned with vines and Spanish moss. I got near an intersection and saw a few old looking buildings a distance off, but the place looked utterly deserted. I decided that I had had enough for one evening and went back.

Now my appetite was really whetted, and I was determined to be a bit more assertive about this. I returned at around mid-morning and strolled in as though I owned the property. As I did to women in their late forties or early fifties emerged from the path, dressed in clothing far too nice for beachwear- flowing silk scarves over tailored wool coats, looking like they belonged in NYC rather than here. I smiled to them and nodded as I passed by, and retraced my walk from the previous night. I boldly walked along, passing by people who gave me a curious glance but said nothing.

The buildings all had natural wood siding and hip roofs, with lots of screened porches. The people tended to be well dressed as they went about whatever they were doing, walking the paths through the rather dense woods. What the fuck had I stumbled into here?

I walked back out again as it was getting close to lunch time, and as I emerged the same two well-dressed women were entering. I smiled as they approached. "Excuse me, but... what is this place?"

Their faces lit up. "It's the Meher Center," one lady replied. "It's a retreat for the followers of Meher Baba."

I looked blankly at her. "Who?"

They were delighted to spend about ten minutes telling me all about him, and I was even more curious than ever. "So you get to stay here?"

"Sure! Go to the Gatehouse and they'll tell you whatever you want to know. They've got all kinds of brochures and stuff there."

"Cool. So how do I get to the Gatehouse?"

"Get on Route 17 North and hang a right at Hooters." And we all cracked up.

Since then I've read about him and bought some of his books, and find him to be fascinating. Con man? Moonbat? Avatar? No way to tell, but whatever he was, he had a serious impact in India and around the globe. I've stayed at the Center a few times now- it's very cheap to stay there, very quiet, they forbid any sort of proselytizing, and I find it to be one of the most tranquil places I know. The people I meet there are typically very well educated, affluent, frequently artists, and invariably very pleasant. It's been a couple of years since I last stayed there, but I think that sometime in a month or two I need to go for a long weekend. I'm due.

So, thanks to an odd old fellow and my own insatiable curiosity, I now have a wonderful place to go decompress. Say whatever you like about how terrible religion is- in that one spot it has established a very peaceful and open place that welcomes everyone who needs to retreat for a while. And that, friends, is more valuable than anything.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 20 Mar 2009, 15:29, 10 replies)

^ ^
Agreed.
( DUMBLONDE is a rubber lover girl, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 16:01, closed)

what?
Errrr, beg your pardon and all that but what exactly do you mean by "it was my year without the kids".

Apols if prying.
(mersault, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 16:17, closed)

Sorry! I should have clarified that.
I'm divorced, and I have the kids with me for alternate Thanksgivings. We usually divide up Christmas by them being with her on Christmas Eve into the morning of Christmas Day, and then with me for the remainder of Christmas.

So this happened on a year when they were with their mother.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 20 Mar 2009, 17:33, closed)

.
I've just read that article, and he sounds like a thoroughly interesting fella.

I'm going to speak to my Dad a bit about him, he might be able to shed some light on him.

Cheers for this TRL
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 16:26, closed)

He really was.
He had a good sense of humor- he was a very big fan of PG Wodehouse, and had all of the Jeeves & Wooster books and all the rest in his library. (They occupied an entire shelf.) His main person in SC was Elizabeth Patterson, a rather imposing specimen of a woman by all accounts with the personality of a general, and his sign language gesture for her was to poke out his elbows to indicate girth and tug on the brim of an imaginary hat.

Among his followers is Pete Townshend, and apparently George Harrison was also quite a fan.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 20 Mar 2009, 17:40, closed)

I seem to remember you telling me about this place once upon a time
It had completely slipped my mind.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Fri 20 Mar 2009, 16:52, closed)

Yes, I have.
It's a very special place to me, truth be known- I know of nowhere else quite like it.

Sometimes it pays to be a nosy git!
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 20 Mar 2009, 18:24, closed)

damn... wish they had a place in the UK...
Y'know - sometimes I wish i could get somewhere like this - just get some REAL quiet and do some serious thinking...

I envy you your discovery and salute your nosiness. I checked out their sites and the wikipedia article on the chap himself - and they seem like that rare (but not entirely unknown) abso-freakin'-lutely genuinly nice religious types.

You must have met the type at the retreat - but does the rest of you lot know what I mean? - they don't hassle, they don't preach - but they are amongst the nicest, most humane, decent True Humans you will ever meet: ever.
(brumguvnor www.twitter.com/brumguvnor, Fri 20 Mar 2009, 20:46, closed)

Yes, they are.
His ban on proselytizing, directing that their lives be more of an example of his teachings that preaching his words, was brilliant. The people I met were all very happy to discuss Baba- and sometimes even to tell some rather rude and funny stories on him- without pushing anything. They were genuinely curious as to my thoughts, without judging. It was a really great experience.

Then again, I do tend to stand out in that crowd- I'm tall, male, white, relatively young and more than happy to converse. Most of who I met there were either Indians or middle aged or elderly people. When I told the story of how I found the place they were mesmerized. And when I spoke of my own ideas they were really interested. I suspect it's rare that they get younger people coming in off the beach.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 20 Mar 2009, 21:07, closed)

Pete Townshend of The 'Oo
is/was a devotee, hence 'Baba O'Reilly'.


Whether Meher Baba wanted his disciples to use their credit cards to purchase child porn online is not clear, however....

The Kids Are Alright, eh? As in 'a bit of alright'?

EH? EH?????
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Mon 23 Mar 2009, 16:59, closed)