I just got back from Savannah. Thought for a minute there I wasn't going to be able to go. Started feeling extra gross at work on Friday night, wound up coming straight home from work instead of going downtown to see the b.h. play. Hot shower, emergen-c packet, and piles of blankets. Slept and watched TV. Woke to pick up the b.h. around two, came home and passed out again, woke up feeling fine. I think the pollen just got to me.
Anyway, we got an early start, went down to Ike and Jane's for breakfast sandwiches and coffee and doughnuts. Drove straight through with only one stop, and went immediately to the club to check in. The band was an hour behind us due to a keys-locked-in-van incident. We headed over to the Sentient Bean for coffee and then to the SCAD shop. I love that place. Student art for sale, and some of it very good. Nothing I could afford that really struck my fancy, though. The band called when they got to the club and we headed back there.
Parking was a bit of a bitch. The club was on River Street, which is the mainest of main drags on the riverfront (thus the name), which was packed with people because of the absolutely lovely weather. Having already made that mistake once, the b.h. and I decided instead to park several blocks away and walk with both of his guitars and his suitcase o' pedals and such. No problem. Then we stood around for an eternity waiting for the other band to load out. We didn't really mind, though, because we were able to buy beer and stand out on the street drinking it. We did because we could, and because of the aforementioned incredible weather. After that was load in and soundcheck, which I managed to avoid most of by walking down the waterfront with R while the b.h. checked and leaving when the other band did.
The b.h. and D and I walked over to the Moon River Brewery and waited at the bar for the other guys. I had a Swamp Fox IPA. It was delicious.
We were seated in the main room, still waiting for the other guys to arrive from sound check. D had his back to the front door. Through the crowd I saw some frat boys and sorostitutes in Full Confederate Regalia, and they were making their way in our direction. When they passed our table, D looked up in disgust and said quite loudly "You guys are hilarious", in a tone indicating that he did not, in fact, find it hilarious.
I find the whole thing quite confusing myself. The fascination with a war that no one ever spoke of outside of history class where I come from. Technically those people were traitors, and since many if not all of those people claim to be patriots, I don't see why they feel the need to celebrate. Also, I can't imagine how the black people who were present (waiters and bartenders in this case) must feel at the sight of these people, but since I am not a real Southerner I more often than not feel like the best bet is to keep my mouth shut. As far as I am concerned, these people might as well be walking around in KKK robes or Nazi uniforms, but generally I am able to simply ignore it. Not so with D. He was obviously pissed (in both senses of the word, I now realized), and made it known. I was worried that we were only three and they appeared to be younger, more fit, and in greater numbers. Not that I am afraid of a broad in a hoopskirt, mind you, but the boys were definitely of the large and cornfed variety. Luckily the rest of the guys showed up just then, and we were distracted by food and fun.
I ordered onion rings and a dip-thingie made from cream cheese, sundried tomatoes, and roasted garlic to share with everybody, and leek and goat cheese cakes for myself. This is what I had last time we were here, and though I prefer to be more adventurous, there were not a lot of veggie options. I was very happy with all of my selections.
AT one point I stepped outside for a smoke break with R, again mostly because it was beautiful out and I could bring my beer along, and the first guy I saw was in a confederate uniform. I asked if I could take my picture with him, and could I please hold his sword? Then I found out that he was the Haunted Savannah Tour Guide.
"Oh, so you're not really a racist, you just get paid to wear that, huh?" I smirked. Holding the sword point to his throat was not near as fun.
Another fratty couple came up in uniform and I got a picture with them. It's one of those "the folks back home are never gonna believe this" things. By back home, of course, I mean Chicago. No one in Athens will have trouble believing.
We returned to the club stuffed to the gills and waited a short time for the bands to start playing. It was a fun show but a long one, and we were all ready to get to sleep when it was over.
Hilariously, River street was now blocked on one side with illegally parked cars, and on the other was a very long, seemingly immobile line of traffic. Two of the guys wound up walking back two blocks to get the van, then we waited while they sat in traffic, then we blocked traffic while all scrambling to get the gear in. The guys in the little SUV immediately behind the van seemed totally relaxed, watching us calmly through the windshield while thumping bass poured from their over-sized speakers. In fact, nobody honked or complained at all, which was odd but a relief. There was simply no other way for us to load out. No one from the club bothered to help us, despite there being at least two young and able-bodied men right next to the door and absolutely no business now that the bands had finished. I doubt they'll be going back there.
We spent all day Sunday walking around. The guys went home early, and the b.h. and I had the whole day to ourselves, knowing that our capable dog-sitter would be staying at least until two. We got breakfast at Clary's which I found mostly disappointing this time, and then coffee at the Sentient Bean (again), and walked through square after square all the way to the river from the far side of Forsyth Park. Then we walked down the river and turned back, this time walking a very different and less populated set of squares. We stopped in a lovely French decor shop, which D had mentioned the day before. I fell in love with a piece of art that was $1400. Of course. Champagne taste and a beer budget, as they say. I bought a greeting card and we continued on. The walk was fantastic, the weather perfect. We decided that were we to move to Savannah, this would be the neighborhood we would live in. I took a ton of pictures. There are so many tiny details on houses and gates there. It's like a treasure hunt in a way. I love (visiting) that place.
After we got back to the car we bought refills and pastries and started home.
The drive was uneventful, and when we returned we found treasure, in the form of school loan documents, waiting in the mailbox. Hoo-fucking-ray.