Summer Lovin'

It's Mayberry on Acid ... a Redneck Reviera ... an island Paradise ... a small community with more Stop Signs per square inch than any place on earth ... full Platoons of Parking Nazis ... Beach music most every night ... a Bar Church ...ten thousandTourons on Summer weekends (Tourist + moron = Touron) ... the smell of the marsh ... sunsets over the the Back River ... sunrises out of the ocean ... miles and miles of clear blue skies ... Ocean breeze, rum on ice, lazy days and party nights ... In spite of what the elected officals keep doing to the place, Tybee Island is still pretty spectacular. I love summer! I love the beach! I love islands! I love Tybee! For years I lived on the corner of Tenth and Butler, which is the ocean side of the Main Drag. My son Jeremy and I became convinced that hundreds of people from Effingham and Bryan Counties planned their weekends around driving to Tybee so they could turn around in our Drive-way. So we got a bunch of balloons, filled them with water, took the screens out of the upstairs windows and waited. Sure enough in no time at all, people from somewhere else started using our Drive-Way as a stock car turn-around. As soon as they did, we hurled water balloons at them, laughing our asses off. My daughter Kristen saw what was going on and she has a better arm than Jeremy and I combined. So she started throwing with precision ... breaking several windshields and knocking a couple of redneck heads down the street. It runs in the family though. My Dad once heard two drunk guys cursing in the middle of the Tenth Street Crosswalk in front of a bunch of girls. He told them to stop. They cussed at him. So he decked them, knocking one unconcious. My Uncle Curtis and Jeremy drug Dad away before the Tybee Island Police showed up. The girls thanked my Dad as he was being taken. Fast forward to now. I live in a quiet part of the island, surrounded by a thousand shades of green, the smell of the marsh, sound of the sea, salt in the air. I nod at my neighbors as we walk the dogs (well ... Winston, the little gay dog, prances with his mouth open while Goddess looks like royalty) and we sometimes stop and have wine with Art (who loves Auburn). We go to Shirley's sad little holy dock to listen to the concert of the choir of mussels. We have dinner on the Beloved Back Deck. Then there are those summer nights ... "Summer lovin' had me a blast ..." You know what I'm saying. Alright then ... I wonder if Sarah's up. It's a beach day! Time to get the beach balls out. Y'all all have fun! (And I the good Lord and I forgive you for your dirty minds!)