Karma's a Bitch, Bitch.

     We've all had the conversation at some point. You are about to meet a friend of a friend. Maybe it's time to meet your new girlfriend's friends. Maybe it's the guy in the office that everyone knows but no one really likes.  No matter who it is...you know it's going to be an interesting conversation when it starts with, "I have to warn you about so and so...."  And then ends with the phrase, "But that's just how he/she is."

     I know a guy who, for all intents and purposes, has the functional capacity of a flat tire. He's not that bright....and definitely not to be trusted with any task that needs to be done correctly. He can't feed himself...or I should say he won't feed himself. He's married, and his wife has allowed this behavior for the entirety of their marriage.  He is also from another country, and uses his foreign-ness as an excuse much of the time.  Forget the fact that he's lived in the U.S. longer than I've been alive.  And when I ask why no one says anything to him about not being able to make himself lunch when he gets hungry, or complaining about all the foreigners where he lives, I'm told...."That's just how he is."

     There's a woman, in her late 60's, who is cynical, negative, and treats her husband like he has the functional capacity of a flat tire.  She ridicules him in public.  She is negative at every opportunity.  And she makes rather offensive generalizations, often about things she really has little real knowledge of. She has been around long enough to know better than to talk like that, or to treat people like crap and expect anything better in return. But she doesn't. And once again, when I ask why no one says anything to this person about how she talks to and about people, I'm told..."She doesn't mean anything by it.  That's just how she is."

     These people exist.  These people are out there.  And we are just letting them get away with being assholes because "that's just how they are"....?  It makes no sense.

     Then there's the friend who just "tells it how it is."  You know the one...they're the type that describes themselves as a straight shooter, or no nonsense, or as one who "calls it how they see it." They don't have a good thing to say about anyone. It's the friend who only seems content when there's drama happening around them. Frankly, I'm tired of people justifying their rude or nasty behavior or comments by saying, "I'm just a realist."

     No.
     You, Sir, are an asshole.

     There's so much negativity out there.  It's all around us.  It just floats in the air...in the universe.  And for whatever reason, we have gotten to the point where we just accept it.  It's OK for us to just let people "be that way."  And I, for one, am not sure why.  I like to think of myself as an eternal optimist.  I like to assume the best in people...sometimes to a fault.  I don't like to be negative ALL the time.  Don't get me wrong....I wouldn't say I'm all rainbows and unicorns all the time, either.  Trust me when I say I have my fair share of negativity.  I like to think I handle it well, though.  It's focused...aimed in the proper direction, if you will.  I'm negative to those who....deserve it.

    That said, I like to try to put the positive out there rather than the negative.  There's enough in this world trying to bring us down, I don't need to actively contribute to that.  Some call it the "Golden Rule," some call it Karma.  I just call it being decent human being.

     For those that fall into the Karma camp...and believe that what goes around comes around...that there is some higher power or force that is playing universal 'tit for tat'....remember, this shouldn't be used as an excuse either. Much like allowing someone to be a jerk just because 'that's how they are'... to revel or delight in another person's pain, and cheering on "Karma" for "giving them what they deserve" is just another way of being an asshole and justifying it with a cliched excuse.

     IF you believe in Karma...why would you put such negativity into the universe?

     "But, Sarge...I'm not putting negativity out there.  I'm just saying that they got what they deserved."

     Check it out, brain trust.  Karma, if you believe in that sort of thing...is ALWAYS watching.  To a universal power that controls when good or bad things happen to people, there is no rest.  Whatever bad thing that happened to that person that has you so delighted...was that person's Karma.  It was theirs to deal with for whatever bad ju ju they put out there.  What makes you think Karma is going to overlook the fact that you are just being a heartless person and finding pleasure in someone else's pain?  Nope...that's negativity...and if you buy into it, you'll have yours coming soon enough.

     Instead, how about you have an inkling of compassion in your heart and feel bad that something bad happened to another human being?  Did they deserve it?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  Who are you or I to say?

     I don't know if I buy into the whole Karma thing....especially when people only throw the phrase around when they are glad something bad happened to someone else.  What I DO believe in...is being a good person.  The Golden Rule isn't just an old adage...it's a real way to live!  Kindness begets kindness. We each CHOOSE how react to those in our lives...regardless of how they treat us or what they do to us.

     That friend who thrives on having drama around her...that woman who treats her husband like a lesser human in public....that man who won't function on his own...they all have chosen to live the way they do.  And if they have negativity in their lives, it's because they choose to have it there.  They respond to negativity with more negativity.  I can't change them. I can't make them be better people.  I can only be the best person I know how to be.  That's MY Karma...that's my attempt to bring good things to a negative world.

     I just think it's time to stop the excuses.  It's time to hold people accountable for the things they say.  It's not OK to 'just be that way.'  By letting people 'just be that way', we are just as guilty as saying the words ourselves.  It's OK to tell them they need to reel it in, or that it's not alright to 'just tell it like it is.'  Not at the expense of other people.  If you have to caveat the comment you are about to make with the phrase "No offense, but..."  It's probably better to just keep your mouth shut....because it's probably going to be offensive.

      And if you DO believe in Karma...perhaps the next time you hear someone say something unacceptable because they "tell it how it is"...think about how Karma feels about you allowing that.  The next time you get joy from someone else's pain because you think Karma came back around on them...remember that it's watching you too.   And while you are happy that something bad happened to someone else...just remember...

     Karma's a bitch, bitch.

 Sarge,
 Out

Everything's Gonna Be Alright

   

It was 1994.  A young man was preparing for his Senior Prom.  He was nervous and excited all at the same time.  He was excited because it was Senior Prom.  His girlfriend was....well, hell....he was just glad he HAD a girlfriend.  You see, he wasn't the most popular kid in the school.  He was kind of a misfit....got along with everyone, but didn't really fit into any particular clique.  And therein lies the reason for his nervousness.  While he wasn't afraid that something would go wrong...it was always hard to be part of an event when he never felt like he truly belonged.  In the end....it turned out to be a fun night.  He was glad he went, and he had a good time...and memories that will be with him for life.


     It was 2014.  A not so young man was getting ready for his 20 year High School reunion.  He was nervous and a bit excited all at the same time.  He was excited, because in the last 20 years he had come a long way in his life.  His life was...well, hell...he was just glad he was still alive at this point.  You see, he wasn't the most popular kid in the school.  He had been kind of a misfit....got along with everyone, but didn't fit into any particular clique.  And furthermore...he hadn't seen many of these people in 10-20 years.  While he wasn't afraid that something would go wrong...it was always hard to step into an event wondering if anyone would even remember who he was.  For a guy like him....going to a 20 year High School reunion was like that young  man in 1994 volunteering to be 'it' in dodge ball.

     Life is a strange thing.  When we graduate high school and prepare to enter the real world in one way or another, we all have visions and ideas of what our 'grown up' selves will be.  I would venture to say that not many of us get exactly what we had in mind.  I spent about a year and a half running through just about every crappy job an 18 year old just out of high school could have.  I joined the Army with the intention of 'doing my 4 years' and getting out.  I just 'needed to find some direction.'

     I retire from the Army in 16 months.
   
     So, clearly, I didn't live out the plan I had in mind.  At least not quite.  At some point in the last 20 years, I realized that the reason my life didn't quite turn out the way I imagined....is because I had no idea what I wanted my life to be.  And honestly, that's OK.  It took a long time to realize what I wanted to do with my life.  There were a lot of factors that came into play before, during and after that 'decision' was made.

     I once had dreams of being a Hollywood actor.  I joined the drama club in high school.  Granted, I did that just to impress a girl....but it was enough to make me realize I loved being creative.  The fact that I was a big nerd and had a ridiculously overactive imagination helped fuel that creativity.  I mean, what Dungeons and  Dragons geek hasn't written his own "Hobbit" in his own head...right?

     A friend of mine had a dream of being a marine biologist.  He had an almost unhealthy fascination with sharks.  He knew damn near everything there was to know about sharks.  I was sure he would be the next Cousteau.  I got in touch with him a few years back.  He works as an emergency response dispatcher.  Not quite the shark hunter he dreamed of...but he was good with it.  He likes what he does, and he was happy.  Isn't that all we really want in life....to be happy?

     And that's the key.  Being happy.  I walked into that reunion nervous as all hell.  I felt like that kid getting ready for prom all over again.  As soon as I walked in, I saw one of my friends from the drama club.  He and I laughed, and caught up...well, as much as you can catch up on the last 20 years in about 5 minutes of conversation.  But it was good to see JJ again.  That felt good....maybe it wasn't going to be so bad.  Then I made the rounds.  Table after table saw me...and I was greeted with smiles, handshakes, and hugs.

     I don't know, for sure, how many were genuine and how many were just being polite.  I could definitely tell a few were legitimately glad to see me and everyone else there.   That's just how they always have been.  So when Melissa jumped up from her seat and hugged me, I knew she wasn't just putting on a good show.  She was always one of the nicest people I knew.  And at this point in my life....good genuine people are what I need around me.

     There's a feeling you get when you see someone that you truly care about for the first time after what feels like a lifetime.  Things around you slow down and that moment lingers for a bit longer than time normally allows.  I found myself staring, almost in disbelief, as I made eye contact with two of my best friends from High School.  And best friend doesn't really describe what Selena and Renee were to me.  I was just reconnected with family!

     In school, there are the jocks...the band nerds...the drama geeks...the stoners...and, especially in MY school,  the rednecks.  I belonged to exactly none of those...but got along with almost all of them.  My "clique" was the misfits.  Yes, I was in drama club, but even there I still didn't feel like I fit. 

     My misfits, however...we fit.  We fit in with each other because we didn't fit anywhere else.  We leaned on each other  when times were hard. And for high school misfits, it felt like times were always hard.  My misfits looked past the bleached blond hair, mismatched shoes, and year round trench coat and saw...ME.  That's how it was. We just saw each other. 

     So 20 years later, that feeling was still there. It was like I was reunited with my long lost sisters.  It was amazing.  And while I was enjoying the feeling of catching up with old friends, something occurred to me.  

     It was in times like this that we see how far we've come.  

     I have traveled the world. I've been to war and come back a changed man.  I've seen horrors that haunt me still and always will. And I've seen sights so beautiful I have literally lost my breath to behold them.  But even after all that, it took going home to see how far I had come....how far everyone had come.

      We grow. We change. Priorities shift from being friends with the right group...simply so we fit in, to providing for our families and treasuring our truest friends. The ultra skinny cheerleader that wouldn't give the chubby kids the time of day, now finds family more important than a size zero waistline.  The "cool kid" who made fun of my weird hair and shoes, was genuinely interested in my plans for writing in the future.  The long haired saxophone player who was the life of the party....was still the long haired saxophone player who was the life of the party.  Some things just don't NEED to change!

     Granted, that asshole in high school who liked to scream "wooo!" for no apparent reason other than he liked his own voice...that guy still likes his own voice.  Too much.  I guess we don't ALL mature the same way, even the ones who need to the most.  And... That guy... is even more annoying 20 years later. 

     All in all, I was nervous for no reason. 20 years is a long time, and everyone grows...for the most part. True friends are going to be true friends no matter how much time passes.  Cliques fade as we grow.  If I could tell the 1994 me anything, it would be these two things...."Get to REALLY know her before you pop the question...and...relax. In the long run, everything's gonna be alright."

Sarge,

Out

   

In The Garden of Good and Evil

     It was dark, and gray...and rainy.  Normally, that's the kind of day I would love to stay in bed and not get up until I either simply could NOT sleep any longer....or I was about to pee on myself.  But not this day.  I was excited to go visit Bonaventure cemetery....also known as the Garden of Good and Evil.

     Alright, check it out.  When I decided to go to Savannah, I looked up some cool things to do.  I found a Savannah bucket list online...that's where I learned about The House of Mata Hari.  One of the other things the bucket list said to do was go to this place called Nourish and buy something called "Don't Bug Me" soap.  This was one of the stores I stopped by on the first day.  The problem was the soap smelled like a citronella candle.  Not a fan.  So I opted not to buy it.

     I should have bought the soap.

     After a short drive to Bonaventure cemetery, I grabbed the camera and headed past the sculpture topped gateway.  It was raining...which I thought was appropriate..and it seriously added to the creepiness factor of the whole experience.  The humidity was hovering somewhere near a thousand percent, so I was barely through the gate before I was drenched in sweat.  Still....it didn't bother me.  The intermittent rain showers cooled me off, and I was really excited to get some killer pictures.  after about five minutes of amateur photographer time...something very important occurred to me.

   I should have bought that soap.

     There's something about old cemeteries.  There's a haunting beauty that draws me in.  I see the headstones, or in the case of many of the graves at Bonaventure...the sculptures....and my mind drifts. Add in the odd beauty of the Spanish Moss hanging low, almost as if the trees themselves were mourning the passing of the residents of this beautiful garden...and it's simply mesmerizing.  I walked through the cemetery and just took in the surroundings.  The shutter on the camera clicked at least a hundred times before I made it to the end of the first walkway.  I realized two things.

     1) I will rarely see anything this beautiful again in my life.

     2) I definitely should have bought that soap. 

     I was lost in the cemetery.  Not the kind of lost that I didn't know where I was...the kind of lost where time and the rest of the world outside the gates didn't exist anymore.  It was amazing.  The sculptures were gorgeous.  The scenery was breathtaking.  After a few hours, and a few hundred pictures, it was time to leave.  The pending storm was also a big motivator.  So I drove back into Savannah's historic district and headed toward the river walk.

    

     I have....mixed feelings....about the river walk.

     The river walk is a long row of old cotton warehouses along the river.  These buildings were used to store the cotton shipped up and down the river in the country's infancy.  The history of the walk is very cool.  The look of the buildings is interesting.  Some of the restaurants on the River Walk are really nice.  For a good burger, stop by the Boar's Head.  A good burger and a beer was much needed after the sauna that was Bonaventure.

     The thing that bugs me about the River Walk is...well....there are a couple of things.  As I mentioned, I like the buildings.  Some of the shops are interesting.  But the problem with the shops on the walk...is that they are a little too....boardwalk tourist trap...for my liking.  If there was only one, that would probably be fine.  But it felt like every other shop down there was a T-Shirt and Souvenir shop.  I think there's so much potential down there...the location is prime...and it's Savannah!  There are PLENTY of creative, weird, quirky, interesting people that could open a shop down there that doesn't sell  "I 'heart' Savannah" T-Shirts.

     The other thing...is the view.  It's a mile (maybe...I don't know...but it felt like it when I walked it end to end) of RIVER FRONT retail and commercial space.  There is a historic Pirate ship (ok...not really a pirate ship...but it looks like one, and I love pirates...so I'm calling it a pirate ship.)  Aside from that....there isn't much to look at on the river side of things.  That is...unless you're a fan of industrial cranes and construction equipment.  When it boils down to it, I prefer the squares and City Market over the River Walk.  But, maybe that's just me.

     Mother nature decided I was done with the River Walk at just about the same time as I did.  So...back in the car and back to home base.  The plan was to not have a plan and just chill for the night.  It had been a long day...I was looking forward to relaxing.

     As night fell, the temperature dropped.  It had been a few hours and my legs had recovered from the cemetery and the river.  I wanted to get out and enjoy some 'fresh air.'   One of the fun things about Savannah is that you can drink on the streets...yes...'grown up drinks.'  As long as they are in plastic cups, you can take your bender with you when you leave the bars!  Or, in our case...the home base.  So,with  a couple of cups of Sangria in hand, we headed out to Monterey Square.  

     During the walk around the city the first day, I stopped in a little cigar shop.  I smiled and said Hi to the girl working behind the counter.  Then I made it perfectly clear that I didn't smoke, but it was part of the bucket list to share a cigar and a drink with my best friend in one of the coolest places I could find. (My personal bucket list...not the one I found online.) She was very nice, and did her best not to laugh at me.  She helped me pick out two cigars and assured me that they would be good.  They were her favorites.

     So there we were...in a square in Savannah, drinking Sangria, listening to a passing ghost tour, and smoking a cigar.  The girl from the shop was right.  These were good cigars.  They were sweet, and not too....heavy, I guess would be a way to describe them.  It was a good time.  We just talked, and laughed.  It was the relaxing night I wanted.  As we snuffed out the cigars and finished the Sangria, I thought of only one thing that could have made it better...

     I should have bought that damn soap!

     The next morning was nice.  The rain had passed and the temperatures had gone down from the day before.  I was up and ready to go by 10:00 A.M, which is good, because I had to get in line for Mrs.Wilkes House restaurant for an early lunch.  Mrs. Wilkes House Dinning Room is this amazing restaurant that treats you just like family.  Seriously.  They seat you at tables of ten, and you don't eat until the table is full.  I suggest getting in line and immediately getting to know those in line with you...because you will be sitting with them at the dinning room table.  The staff treats you life family...welcoming you, asking if you want sweet tea, unsweet tea, or water, and reminding you to keep your elbows off the table and to pass the Lima beans when someone asks for them.  

     The food itself was pure comfort food.  It was delicious!!  The spread was amazing, and reminded me of growing up, and Sylvania Heights Baptist Church's fellowship lunches.  Green Beans, mashed sweet potatoes, dressing (which, I apparently have been mistakenly calling 'stuffing' all these years), pork BBQ, a beef stew that melted in your mouth, and about a dozen other items were passed around the table.  And the fried chicken...WOW.  It was absolutely amazing.  Then, for dessert, they brought out homemade banana pudding!  And...just like family....you have to clear your own plate and take it to the kitchen to be washed.  Arrive early (by 10:30)...and come hungry....because if you're anything like me, you won't walk out of Mrs. Wilkes...you will roll out!

     I decided to walk Forsythe Park.  The fountain in the park is rather well known.  You can tell because half the Savannah post cards have its picture on them.  So I wanted to take some cool fountain pictures of my own.  The park has a small cafe in the middle of it, and I went in for a coffee.  While there...two guys almost got into a fight while I was in line.  I guess some things are the same no matter where you go in the country.

     After Forsythe, I did some more sight seeing.  Jones street, in the historic district, has been voted the most beautiful street in America.  So...naturally I wanted some pictures of that too.  Again...it was a nice relaxing day.  I wanted to take it kind of easy, because I knew it was the last night in Savannah and I had a plan to make it memorable.

    On Bull St, in Savannah, there is a particular bar. This bar is home to 200 Martinis and 200 Beers.  On this night...I was there for the Martinis.  The bar is Jen's and Friends.  And the Martinis are...well, (*assume the Morpheus matrix voice) I can't TELL you about Jen's and Friends Martinis...I have to show you!  Wait...I'm a writer...I HAVE to tell you or I need to rethink this career choice.  The martinis are the ingenious combination of some of America's favorite treats...and alcohol.   The flavors range from Snickers, S'mores, and Rice crispy treats to fruit flavors, Chai, and something called a Scooby Snack.

     As soon as I entered the bar I knew I would like it.  The place was small, but well laid out.  The bar along one wall and a couple tables along the other.  The decor was cool....with a pyramid of bad ass martini glasses mounted on one wall.  I liked the fact that it wasn't too loud.  They were playing music, but it was background noise and didn't overpower the room.  The bartender was...simply put....awesome.  

 

     The bartender greeted me as I walked in and was with me in just a couple short moments after I sat at the bar.  She was fast...and good at what she did.  She handled the steady flow of patrons with ease.  It was clear she knew the regulars and what they liked to drink.  When I asked Mary Anne, the bartender, about what she liked about the job, she said, "I'm a chemist with booze and candy.  And I get to wear flip flops instead of a lab coat."

     I started with a Snickers Martini.  It was amazing.  The glass was rimmed with chocolate, caramel and nuts, and then garnished with a fun size snickers candy bar.  The drink itself was smooth and complimented the sweet flavors of the candy VERY well.  My next drink was something called a Scooby Snack.  The flavors mixed in my mouth and made me say, "ooh, eeh heh heh" (Like Scooby Doo....), and as I finished the drink it made me say, "Ruh Roh."  

     I had a great time and will definitely go back the next time I am in Savannah.  It was a great time for my last night in town.  

     Looking back, I really enjoyed the time away.  Often times when we NEED time away, we don't allow ourselves to truly relax and enjoy the break from the rest of our hectic, busy, frustrating and sometimes flat out shitty lives.  I did that.  I took in the sights around. me.  I took pictures...with the hopes that I can show you the world the way I see it.  So when you need to get away...and get out of you head...DO IT.  But really do it.  Forget whatever troubles and frustrations you got away from, because...trust...they will be there when you get back.  Enjoy the time away, whether it is at a crazy Martini bar, smoking a cigar with your best friend, traveling back in time to a 1920's speak easy...or just strolling through the Garden of Good and Evil.

Sarge, 

Out 

Getting My Head Right

      Savannah is one of my favorite places in the country.  I love cities with personality...and by personality, I mean I love weird and quirky places...and Savannah has more "personality" than just about any other city I've visited.  So, after a night relaxing and having fun at The House of Mata Hari, I slept in a bit later than I usually do. It was nice.  Sunday in Savannah is very quiet.  I'm not used to that...but, it was a much needed change...that's for sure.  Oversleeping aside...once I was up, it was time to get started.  And first things first....I needed coffee.  The home base was nice.  We rented a small condo on West Gordon Street, just off Chatham Square in the historic district.  One of the nicest things about Savannah is that you can walk pretty much anywhere you want to go.  So being located between one of the historic squares and Forsythe Park was a really nice bonus.

     A short walk only a few blocks over and we found Gallery Espresso, one of the best coffee shops I have ever tried.  We ordered a cup of Joe and a breakfast sandwich each.  My white chocolate mocha was just sweet enough.  And, the bacon, egg, and cheese croissant was not only delicious, it was more than enough to fill me up for all the walking that was ahead of me.

     As we walked toward the river, we stopped in several of the shops along the way.   I would say about half the time we stopped, it was mostly just to get out of the heat.  Ok, well....it wasn't really THAT hot.  I used to think that the term "it's not the heat...it's the humidity" was just crap.  Let me tell you....Georgia in August....is nothing but humidity.  So....while we waded through humidity to all the shops....mostly to get out of the heat AND humidity....they were all really nice and some of them had some very cool things inside.  One shop in particular carried a line of greeting cards that had me dying!

     Eventually, the Gallery Espresso breakfast wore off and it was time for lunch.  We found ourselves near the City Market.  City Market is the commercial and social center of Savannah.  It's is a great area for shopping, art, entertainment...and of course...eating.  (Not mention people watching...but, if I'm being honest....that's just about anywhere in Savannah.)

     We decided that pizza was on the menu, and  headed in to Vinnie Van Go Go's.  It's a great little joint on the corner with some of the best pizza I've had.  If you like thin, New York style pizza bursting with flavor and a thin crispy crust, Vinnie Van Go Go's is a perfect lunch stop.  They also deliver to the downtown area by bike at no extra cost.

     After lunch, we checked out the galleries and art studios.  This is one of my favorite parts of City Market.  There are two buildings...one on each side of the Market...that house various galleries and studio spaces for many very talented artists.  It was Sunday, so most of the studio spaces were locked up and we weren't able to go into them to see the artwork up close.  But we were able to see the paintings and sculptures from just outside.

     I have found that sometimes, people come into our lives....even if for the briefest of moments....for a very specific reason.  I met just such a person as I walked to the end of the hall on the second floor of the galleries in City Market.  The door to the small studio was open, and the artisan inside was working his craft diligently, and with much care.  As I entered, "King David" looked up and smiled.

     "Come on in," he welcomed.  "Have a look around.  Take your time."

     I did.  His work was interesting.  Different than things I had seen in the other studios.  He hand crafted jewelry out of silverware.  Yeah....forks and spoons.  It was beautiful...interesting...and like I said, different.  I looked around the studio, and saw a picture above the door.  It was him...the artist...only, a younger version of the man sitting before me with silver wire and a pliers in his hands.  I asked about his work and how he came to be called "King David."

 
     He explained that he spent years going to trade shows buying and selling...but not creating.  Then, he tried his hand at it.  He was good....and discovered a passion for it.  He spoke of the man who taught him how to make jewelry.  He said that after some time, he was making jewelry and selling it on his own, even teaching others to make jewelry.  One day, at a show, he saw a man standing off to the side, just watching his table.  He was dressed head to toe in traditional African dress.  As he approached David's table...the artist became a bit cautious...unsure of the attention he was receiving.  As the strangely dressed man drew closer...he stopped.  And, to David's surprise...he bowed low...as if presenting himself to royalty.  As he rose again, David suddenly recognized him.  It was his teacher...the man who taught him how to create jewelry.  He told David that he was respected throughout the art community and had risen to a sort of royalty status.  It was then that he took the name "King David."

     I was very interested in the story of an artist that was living his passion.  This man loved what he did and was proud of his work.  This was evident in the pictures he kept on the wall.  All of his customers were there...smiling at the work and artistry that he provided to them.  And while he was very good at what he did, and his story was rather inspirational...it was the next story that he told me that stuck with me the most.

     He told me about his grandson.  A story about his grandson's work in school and how he was slacking in his grades.  He said the he and his wife told the boy that he had to straighten up.  They basically gave the typical grandparent lecture about doing well in school.  But it's the phrase he used that stuck with me.  King David said that he told his grandson, "You gotta get your mind right."  He said that once you get your mind right, everything else will fall into place...and you will achieve all that you are supposed to....you will be what you are meant to be.

     That phrase remains with me still....'Get your mind right.'

     I left King David's studio and continued walking through the City Market.  Another of the studios that was open that day was A.T. Hun.  I met the owner and talked with him for a bit.  This studio was fun and interesting.  Eight artists shared the space, all with a contemporary feel to their work.  Bright colors and bold images filled the studio.  Subjects ranged from colorful oil paintings of animals in rainbow hues to dramatic nudes painted across old aircraft sheet metal.

     It was getting late in the afternoon and we decided to head back to home base and get ready for dinner.  After a short time to cool off and clean up a bit, we decided to walk toward the river walk again and just  pick a restaurant as we went.  Our choice was The Public Kitchen and Bar.  It is a really nice restaurant with a menu that, at first glace, was possibly a bit to fancy for my simple tastes.  But, as luck would have it, they had a burger on the menu! I ordered the blacken Bison Burger.  It was very well seasoned.  With a side of chips and Dogfish 60 Minute IPA, it was great meal after a long day of walking in the heat.  My buddy had the seasonal Risotto with grilled chicken.  The risotto itself was mix of many flavors, to include fresh apricot.  Personally....it was a bit much for me.  The chicken, however...was the best chicken I have ever tasted.  It was bold, and tender and made that whole dish worth it.

     After dinner...it was time for dessert.  We took a walk over to E. Broughton street and headed inside Leopold's for some homemade ice cream.  I had read that the Tutti Frutti was amazing.  My buddy ordered a double scoop and said that what I read was absolutely correct!  The bits of fruit and the nuts in the hand churned ice cream reminded me of ambrosia.  My choice, for the night was the caramel swirl.  Normally when I get caramel ice cream, the caramel is more like a ribbon of caramel syrup...soft and gooey.  This was NOT like that.  I bit into the ice cream and it was like Leopold's took mom's handmade caramels and stretched them throughout the ice cream!  It was amazing....and the best caramel swirl I have ever had.

     So, it was a great day.  We walked all over Savannah...took a lot of pictures...and had some good food.  I enjoyed the beauty of Savannah's historic district, and I met some really cool people.  It was exactly what I needed.  Time away...a good visit when I needed to take King David's advice....and work on getting my head right.

Sarge,
Out

It's A Good Time, If You Can Find It.

    It's been a long few months.  It has been very hard...the worst emotional roller coaster I've ever been on.  Not only has my personal life flipped upside down, but work has been challenging lately as well.  So, it was getting to decision making time.  That decision was simple...go insane and have a breakdown over the recent stress, or grab my best buddy and take a break.

     So, I opted to NOT go insane.  Instead....I grabbed my best buddy and we packed the car.  We hit the road and drove about nine hours south.  After a long drive, we crossed the bridge...and we were at our home base for the long weekend.  Over the next few posts, I'll tell you all about it.  It was an awesome time.  I had a chance to get out of my head and be ME for a while.  It was  much needed....and very much worth the drive.  And it all started that very first night.

     We walked down the alley, heading toward a place that few even knew existed and that can only be found by those that have been there. An unmarked door in a back alley of Savannah, Georgia was the destination.  There were plenty of people on the street this night....laughing, talking, enjoying their drinks out on the street like you can only do in Savannah.  We got plenty of compliments...considering we were dressed for the occasion.  I mean, you can't show up to a fully legitimate speak easy and NOT go all the way.  My buddy was in all black, looking like a million bucks.  I was rockin' the pinstripe suit, white shirt and white tie...and the shoes.  Oh, I love my black white wing tips.

    We approached a door and I was pretty sure that we were at the right place, as the doorman shook his head and he showed a group of would be patrons away from the establishment.  They weren't very happy, but if one wanted to get into this club, they had to have the right key...literally.   I straightened my tie, and approached the doorman.


  "Can I help you?" he asked.  I glanced over my shoulder and noted that the recently rejected customers regarded me with a bit of a glare.

     "I should be on the list," I answered, turning back to doorman.

     "Ok," he smiled.  "Under who's name?"

I smiled...and mentioned the owner's name.  

     "That's a good name," the doorman smiled. " And your name?"

I told him, and he nodded.  "One moment, please."

     He disappeared behind the big door.  I looked over and the patrons that glared at me only moments ago. They now watched with particular curiosity.  The doorman returned, and with a sweeping gesture, he stepped aside and greeted us.  "Welcome...to the house of Mata Hari."

     So, the House of Mata Hari is Savannah's very own Speakeasy.  It operates just like the old school, prohibition era underground bars operated.  The location is not advertised.  The only way in is to know the password....or in the case of Mata Hari, to have a key.  The membership 'card' to the club is antique silver key that members show the doorman in order to get in.  No key, no entry.  The only other way to get in is to know a member and be on the list.  Fortunately for us...I managed to get on the list.

     Once inside, we were transported the 1920's.  The place was just...cool.  The lighting, the music, the staff....all of it just gave off a good vibe. As we entered, I noted a group of people were gathered around the pool table just to the left.  Leather couches and plush chairs were placed all throughout the bar.  It was comfortable, and relaxing.  I didn't get a 'meat market' vibe at all.  The clientele ranged from 20 something college students to one couple that had to be in their 60's.

     As I approached the small bar at the far end of the room, I noticed that there were two mixologists working this evening.  A couple of young ladies were slinging drinks.  They were dressed in a 20's-esque neo-burlesque style...complete with fishnets and bow-ties.  They were attentive and quick to take our drink orders.  I left a tab open and smiled at the fact that my whiskey sour was just right.  My buddy's drink was perfectly mixed as well.  So, the night was off to a good start.

     The DJ, who's gear was set up in an old piano (it was a very cool look, keeping with the theme) was playing a good mix of bluesy tunes and jazz standards from the 40's and 50's.  As the night progressed, the musical timeline progressed as well.  But, the real entertainment came every half hour, as the DJ silenced his tracks and the spotlight turned to the stage.  That's when Stevie Williams stepped to the microphone.  Her white sequined dress was slit all the way up and echoed the look of true divas of days gone by.  She closed her eyes, and I watched as the first few notes of her first song started.

    Damn!  She was good.  I sipped my drink and listened to her belt out Alicia Keys and Christina Aguilera with ease.  Then...doubt crept in.  The first notes of "Rolling in the Deep started. She was going to sing Adele?

 Uh, oh.  She had better bring it if she's going to...

"There's a fire, starting in my heart...reaching a fever pitch, it's bringin me out the dark...."

...Oh....

Yep...She brought it.

After her set, we had the opportunity to go backstage and get a look around.  Stevie explained that every weekend, there was live entertainment at Mata Hari.  Every other month they even do a Burlesque show in a special theater section of the club, behind the main stage.  We got to see the dressing rooms...full of amazing costumes from the various shows.  After a few minutes of wandering the back rooms, the DJ came back.  It was time for Stevie to take the stage again.

   The remainder of the night was spent listening to Stevie's sets and just chatting with some of the bar
patrons, and Chris...the doorman.   I have to hand it to Mata Hari.  It is quite possibly the coolest bar I've been to.  And I have to hand it to the owner.  The business has thrived, solely through word of mouth. All in all, for the first night of our vacation, It was a great time and I will definitely be going back the next time I'm in Savannah.


 







 Then it was time to go.  The rain had started and was coming down in sheets.  Chris ran to the back to try and find us an umbrella.  He came back with a couple of ponchos.  We kindly refused them.  What better way to end an awesome night like this...than a walk in the rain?

     If you find yourself in Savannah, and you're looking for a fun, different bar experience....I highly recommend the House of Mata Hari.  If you ask around, I'm sure there are locals who know where it is...and how to obtain a key.  Then it's a matter of ringing the bell on the right door...and waiting for that eye slit to open.  Then...it's a good time...if you can find it.



Sarge,
Out