Almost four decades in the South and still learning.
Folks around here regard Atlanta as north of the
Mason-Dixon line and I think we all know what kind of a slight that is. Savannah is Low country, shrimp and grits country, and the locals I have met tend distinctly towards a sense of fallen nobility. This is actually the furthest eastern district of New Orleans, and everything in between is simply an unfortunate commute.
To visit this town during a period of self-imposed abstinence from the pleasures of fermented grains is bone-headed and wrong. I am having ghost pains at the end of my wrist where the bottle goes and I stare at Pinkie Masters, the bar below my hotel room, with my bottom lip dragging on the balcony rail.
This is a town of spires and steeples and domes. Live Oak lined boulevards and Victorian homes. Tattooed kids with bad emo haircuts are tolerated by tow-headed gentleman in Seersucker suits.
Oglethorpe said, “Don’t change a thing until I get back.”
Savannah is keeping the promise-
Tasty writing. Real tasty.
Nice work there son. Have an O’doul’s, turn the label towards you and refuse all shots based on some fictitious event that caused jail time. I pulled that off for five years and stayed dry. At least that way you can be in the joint, having fun and the phantom itch isn’t as bad.
It’s been a while since you made me google something…thanks for the history lesson.
“self-imposed abstinence” from anything is hard ain’t it (sure doesn’t work for teenage sex, thank goodness – I mean… 😉
Wait — I always heard that’s what Menendez said when he left St. Augustine the last time. Apocryphal in both instances?
Descriptions from Berendt’s, Midnight, come to mind when imagining Savannah, having never been there myself.
HWB, I had to google Pinky Masters. There’s some interesting history there. I google stuff all the time on this crazy circus.
Do not let WB try to extol the virtues of abstinence; it is valiant yes, but extreme and depriving you of life. I am not saying you should be a pink-cheeked lush, but by cutting any one thing out completely takes away from you the one other element that separates us (shy of thumbs-but hell, racoons have ’em) from the critters- and that’s pleasure of contradiction.
Sure, one might abstain for proper reasons both medical and mental- I have core friends and family members that fall into either category. But, just because you said, “I think I’ll be obstinate (or abstainate)…” does not warrant NOT having a couple of mint juleps or heady beers in Savanna. The town is beautiful in its muggy, somber melody. Savanna is soft with hard corners jutting into the very fiber of your soul. “ample”y put, Savanna is like teenage sex, covertly available, fun, clandestine, traditional, and harsh as if you rolled off the car blanket into a Spanish Bayonet palm at the climatic moment.
Lovely really, just lovely. Whew, I would like a drink (note: I did not say “need”).
Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t even have the stones to but a good Kona looking for a home. The non riders are always trying to build their ranks!
Resist! Stand strong!
Sorry dude I was a little hammered when I posted that….dude I am so wasted!
No apology necessary, my will is strong. Bored, lonely, and deprived, but strong.
Great post. Better than a picture.