Thursday, February 24, 2011

Bars

The first time that it happened is when I was subpoenaed to court.

I walked in having no clue why I was to be there and there were two pews of homeless guys and as soon as I walked in they collectively yelled…

“REV!”

I waved.

They waved.

I was there as a character witness for about a dozen of them.

My life changed in an instant.

It’s my Dad’s fault. He was a bar guy. I’m a bar guy. We did bars. I still do, preferring Pups over restaurants.

The first Dad I did together was the “Captain’s Lounge”. We split a pitcher and talked about my brother David and his soon to be wife Susan. Then we talked about each other. During my High School years Dad and I had a rough time with one another but that night we made peace and toasted one another with frosty mugs. Not enough Fathers and Sons do such things. Every time that I drive by the Captain’s Lounge I think of this.

In Louisville I was forever wandering in and out of bars surrounding the Jefferson Street Baptist Chapel. This is where I learned public speaking which always leaves you thirsty. One Sunday Ken Sehested, famous radical from Oakhurst Baptist Church in Atlanta, and I discovered that the best beers are the ones downed after delivering the Sunday Sermon. I was hooked after that!

Now I live on Tybee Island where there are 23 places that serve alcohol and four churches. We even have a Bar-Church and when I attend that is where I go! These days I mostly hang out at Fannie-on-the-beach and Bernie’s where Sam Adams and Gordon play good live music.

I was reminded of all of these things last night. It had been a productive day and the most lovely of afternoons. I’d skipped the Bored meeting and, aside from taking Goddess for a walk, had not been outside. Around seven o’clock Goddess was snoring loudly and there was no one to talk with and the talking heads on television were not good company. I decided to take myself out for dinner.

Strolling into Nicki’s a crowd of people turned around and yelled out loud …”REV!”

I smiled and waved back and took a seat at the bar. Rita leaned over and pecked me on the check with a hello and handing me a glass of wine at the same time. About half the room came over to shake my hand and ask how I was doing?

The empty seat beside me was soon occupied by Alan who fishes every morning in the surf. He is long retired from whatever it was he did. On Tybee nobody cares what you did.

“Micheal,” he whispered in my ear with an arm slung over my shoulder, “I’m getting lazy. That’s why you haven’t seen me fishing lately. I’m gonna get un-lazy though because I miss our talks.”

I nodded. Alan moved on and Richard who bends nails for a living when he can find work walked over with a woman. “Rev, this is my sister. I want y’all to meet.”

I shook her hand and we chatted for a few minutes before they moved on.

A hand suddenly rested on my shoulder from behind a voice that sounded like the guy in “Slingbalde” spoke. “Rev,” said Gordon. He smiled broadly and we talked about Bar Church for a minute.

Then I had some time to myself. Propping my feet against the bar and leaning back in my chair, I surveyed the entire room at once. Couples were softly talking while holding hands. Friends were shooting pool and laughing. Several thoughtfully ate their meals. A collection surrounded the juke box choosing the background music.

And I was reminded again why I love it here. When I stood to leave the entire room turned to watch and yelled in union “LATER REV!”

Walking home I could hear the ocean singing its song and my feet were so light it was as though they were bouncing on a fine trampoline.