"What it like to live on Tybee" I was asked.
How does one begin?
To use Hemingway's line, it's a moveable feast.
And man did we move last night ... and the night before.
Friday night began at Julia-Just-Julia's house on the marsh with Wendell Matthews singing Beneath the Reefer Moon washing it down with wine and bar-b-que. Sarah and I were the only ones who danced but everyone had a good time! The smell of the marsh on a warm spring night is the pungent aroma of sex in the tropics. Coupled with good music, friends and wine, the birth of the weekend exploded our senses.
At dark we left and went to Marlin Monroe's to meet our friends Paul and Lammy who are staying on the island for the weekend. We haven't seen them in forever and quickly made up for lost time. Jenny O came over to our table and we thanked for for our "Full Moon Wedding" because it's your friends who make special things holy and pure. We made plans for the next day and made our way home.
Yesterday, I got my drunken bicycle out of re-hab and Sarah and I rode to Vickie's, the island's newest eatery. Dark clouds were suspended over the marsh and the back river. It was raining in Savannah and we could hear the thunder. Inside Vickie's I ate Whiting and Sarah ate cake as we planned our future. We then rode to the Library and ran into our friend Jack who was there to use the computer.
Our phones were buzzing with commands from our friends to attend the Bored Meeting in front of Fannie's-On-the-Beach so off we went. We learned that there is a company in New York named "Tibi" who is suing us for calling ourselves Tybidiots and putting it on T-shirts and hats. Apparently it's very easy to get into trouble on Tybee.
The dark clouds were peeing on the island so we ran to our bikes and made our home. The rain fell outside of the open windows. Sarah sat at the table fulfilling the plans we had made while I listened to rain until I slept.
Then it was off to Marlin Monroe's again to hook up with our dear friends the Sadowski's where we planned Dano's wedding. She and Paul are visiting from Montana and were in desperate need of seafood. Dano bought her wedding dress this week ("The good news Dad is that I didn't get the most expensive one" ... which is always a bad way to start). After deciding that dogs should be a part of the ceremony, our work was done so we left.
Then it was to Bernie's where I played with the Samuel Adams Band, playing damn good live music on the island. Wwe did a killer version of "Knocking on Sarah's Door" until the entire gig was overrun by groupies. So we left and went to Doc's Bar and danced our brains out to Roy Swindell's excellent sounds. Shots appeared out of nowhere.
I have no idea what time we got home.
Now I sit here sniffing the salt air, wearing sunglasses because of the bright sunshine on the Beloved back deck, listening to the Wendell Matthews "Under the Reefer Moon". I think I'm supposed to be at Bar Church but Sarah talked me into skipping.
Oh well ... this is the Sabbath.
A day of rest.
I need it.
Until noon.
Then the moveable feast starts again.
