Another Holy Party

Most of the civilized world spend Sunday evenings at Church ... at home watching 60 Minutes or football ... eating leftovers ... getting ready to start a new week at work. Not on Tybee Island! We have parties. I'm uncertain if we're celebrating the end of a week or the beginning of another but the focus is definitely on merriment. The island's population really turns out for a party. So while the Baptists were having Sunday night service, the rest of us went to Huc-a-Poos, a mostly outdoor pizza place with a really good bar, flat screen televisions, a Hippie ambiance complete with swirling smoke, and yep ... where everybody knows your name ... unless they're trying to remember it at the moment. The place is a perpetual party ... a moveable feast that never moves ... where someone wakes up every morning wondering why they're still there. A couple of weeks ago, Frank Shuman died while he was on the water which is where he liked to be anyway. Deaths are not really all that great and Frank's left his wife Jamie and son here on the island while he swam down to Atlantis. Frank was a fixture on the island so Tybee did what it does best ... threw a hell of a party for Jamie! Tybee is a place where everyone is running to ... or from ... something. Half the island can afford to live here while the other half struggles, somehow managing in ways that make you believe in God, even if you don't. Most of the parties on the island have fund raising associated with them. Lots of folks don't have insurance, retirement or a savings account. Along with the sand and the salt air is a concern for others that continuously manifests itself. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you is how somebody said it. At The Poo we concocted our own version of Tybee Idol. Lots of alcohol and swirling smoke was involved. Pizza was also consumed. Tons of people were present dressed, or not, in every manner of clothing ... including saran wrap. Contestants stood and sang while the audience stood or stumbled to throw dollars at them. Jamie was the recipient of all of the dollars. The competitors were all fabulous! Most dressed for the song ... or not. The magnificent Joanie Woodcock won and apparently received a midget kitten as her prize. I'm not sure what she sang but it was great! Our friend Sean got it all on film so Joanie will be more viral than she already is soon. Sarah and I were sitting in the back with Wen, watching Jodee and Cheryl who were ... really enjoying themselves! Al ... who had combed his hair for the first time in a couple of years was also sitting with us. Roma and Essie were commandeering the microphone from time to time. At one point, all of the children were asked to leave the audience. Somewhere in all of this, I took a moment. Staring at what was happening around me, on a Sunday night when the holy ones were in church, I wondered who the sanctified really are? Is it those praying in behind their stained glass or those doing unto others? It was a wonderful instant and a line from a Billy Joel song popped into my head. I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints. The sinners are much more fun. So while we had a holy party, the Baptist continued doing what they do best ... praying for everybody who weren't with them.