He's got multiple piercings in his ears, a colorful tattooed sleeve on his right arm of dragons and topless Mermaids which I admire as he hands me our "to-go" environmentally unfriendly plastic bag.
"Thanks man," I answer taking home the fried flounder sandwich with cheese for me and the broccoli/cheddar soup for Sarah.
"Seriously Micheal," he continues ... and I'm so very pleased he knows my name though I couldn't call his if my life depended on it ... "you got the look."
It's not the first time I've been complimented on my snazzy, fashionable, anti-establishment style of dress.
Walking into the managing attorney's office of Hunter, Maclean, Exley and Dunn, Savannah's largest and most prestigious Law Firm, John Hunter laughs and blurts, "Jesus you look like a Beach Bum!"
He's wearing a tailored dark blue, silk suit accentuated with a red tie ... Windsor knot ... and a blazing, starched white shirt.
With my black "Repaire du Pirate" tee shirt, stained cargo shorts and flip-flops, I'm so very pleased.
My wife Sarah will be the first to tell you I'm not everything I seem.
I'm too intense, calculating, not-as-spur-of-the-moment to be the Beach Bum I seem.
I don't know.
Pirates are intense, calculating and anything but spur-of-the-moment sorts.
On the other hand Beach Bums are ... lovers of the Beach.
We care not for the wearing of laundry or shoes.
Even though my life's mostly been spent living beside the Ocean, my top vacation destinations are other beaches.
My favorite music has nautical themes.
I believe with everything in me tanned fat looks better than white.
Drinks taste better with salt on the rim of the glass just like kissing your baby's skin with feet sinking in the sand.
The pungent aroma of the Marsh at low tide is the smell of sex in the Tropics.
Sand Dunes were made to provide privacy for love making.
Body surfing should be taught in school.
Shagging and Salsa are the highest forms of movement.
There's nothing like swimming as the Sun bubbles out of the Sea.
Sunsets into the Sea should be toasted every day.
Skinny dipping in the Ocean shouldn't be illegal.
And every coffin should be dropped at Sea to build artificial reefs so fish repopulate faster.
Sarah's right ... she mostly is all the time ... and I may deviate from my true nature from time-to-time but, my life's destination towards becoming the Beach Bum I am in my mind.
"You wear the same thing every day," says Maddie ... our UGA Bound daughter who knows everything ... if there's something you don't know and really need to know it ... ask Maddie ... she knows.
"Your point?" I ask peering over the "Mild One" coffee cup she gave us for Christmas.
Sarah's coffee cup looks the same except it says, "Wild One."
"Is there a problem with my sense of fashion?" I ask.
"You don't have a sense of fashion," she sighs pouring Fruit Loops into a plastic bag to eat as she drives herself to Catholic School where ... they know a lot about fashion ... with their embroidered white shirts, rolled up plaid skirts and brown shoes.
In years gone a group of Nuns who taught at St. Vincent's sat on the Beach every summer between 10th and 12th Streets wearing bikinis.
It's a theological and moral quandary to see Nuns in bikinis working on their tans, laughing as any collection of girls do, drinking Miller Lite, eating boiled peanuts and tossing the shells in the sand.
Was I sinning just for seeing their flesh?
You and I both know the institutional Church has lots of issues right now but I believe with everything in me it could prevent abuse, embellezment and other scandles by spending more time on the Beach.
Nuns and Priests ... Preachers, Pastors and Deacons ... televangelists like Joel Olsteen and T.D. Jakes should spend lots more time on the Beach ... wearing bikinis and Speedos ... turning white fat into brown ... listening to music with nautical themes ... sharing Communion with salt on the rims of the cup ... taking deep whiffs of the pungent aroma of sex in the Tropics ... making love in the Sand Dunes ... shagging or skinny dipping while contemplating the afterlife.
I loved that collection of Nuns in bathing suits because they broke away from the nasty habits of living out their faith dressed in black, clutching rosaries, serving the poor and prayer without ceasing.
The point being most of us live in a constant dichotomy of living life as who we really are or who we think we're supposed to be.
Dour faced Nuns on the outside are really beer drinking girls in a bikinis on the inside and it makes me wonder which one God intended them to become?
Who are we really once we throw off the masks, disguises and armor suits we wear to convince ourselves and others how we want them to see us?
Isn't life a journey towards wholeness anyway ... a lifelong pilgrimage to the Holy Land of authentically being ourselves ... the person God intended us to become?
Throwing off the pretense society and organized religion heap upon us is one of the lessons Jesus taught us..
After he was resurrected, he stood on the Beach at sunrise and his Disciples didn't know who he was (John 21:4)
Peter, James and John have been out night fishing and hadn't caught a damn thing.
A Dude on the Beach asks, "What you caught?"
They're sullen, quite and pissed because they haven't caught anything.
"Throw it starboard," the Dude yells.
"Who's this guy?" the Disciples ask, like most fishermen who haven't caught anything and have no lies to tell.
But they do it and fill the boat with flopping fish.
By the time they reach shore, Jesus has a fire going and as they grill the fish, they see Jesus as he really is ... living proof love conquers death ... sharing's better than hoarding ... eating together beats eating alone ... there's life in fellowship ... especially if you're bar-b-quing fish.
And it's on the Beach Jesus makes the point.
We've got a lot going for us in this Bar we gather inside to worship, mostly it's a Beach Bar and the Ocean's only steps away which gives us a leg up on this journey to become who we really are ... the person God made us to become.
