There's a Musk in the Air and a Spring in my Step

Then I drove to Savannah. My mind was full and the sun hung low and I shouldn’t have been listening to NPR because I got turned around a couple times when I didn’t understand Rita’s directions. Moneypenny is great, but when Rita speaks up, she sometimes gets the roads wrong. Down here, all highways have names that change every county or so, and they’re named after men, and they must change every few years because Rita would tell me to stay on the Martin Luther King Junior highway, but it wasn’t called that anymore, or once Rita said 17 instead of 16 and I got confused. To those who think I’m talking crazy talk, Moneypenny has a fine British accent and gives me basic directional cues, while Rita sounds like a chain-smoker working the police dispatch and gives me local names of routes and exits. Rita and I are not getting along. So at one point I cut someone off, although really not half as bad as he thought, I can really accelerate in my little vehicle, and he honked and yelled and waved his fist and made his dog bark at me. So I’m seeing I need to be extra careful, road rage down here is pretty intense.

I got to Savannah, to the pretty Bed And Breakfast Inn, and Heather met me at the desk and we chatted and laughed and she gave me restaurant advice. The room I was given was probably the best in the place, named the Tomochichi room, which was on the street level with a back patio that I could walk directly up to the dining from without going out to the street. The ceiling was low and the walls were brick and the bed was a firm, high four poster and I loved it. I signed up for breakfast and headed out to the Six-Pence Pub for dinner, which was right down their street. The place was crowded because a local tour company holds a very clever pub crawl every Friday called The Ghost Tour, and folks get to walk around historic downtown and get drunk at haunted bars (they have to-go cups at bars here). One guy was particularly plastered, I could tell when he shouted ‘I’m shit-faced’ to a friend, but he wasn’t even there for the tour. I ordered and learned that succotash (as in sufferin’ succotash) is just corn and lima beans in butter. Who knew?

See Savannah! If not for her beauty and charm, for her ghosts!

After dinner I took a soak in the tub because I can and my neck and jaw need relaxing after the road. Unfortunately the world is against me taking a long soak because so far either the water heater demanded brevity or the plug did nothing of the sort. But I digress.

I believe that I’m writing differently. The book that I’m reading and loving now has a very simple and breezy flow to the language, which is uncomplicated but friendly. The author is rather skilled at constructing long sentences that never drag, even though they often contain over three ands. Bryson’s book boosted my vocabulary and utilized a great diversity of sentence structure that I long to have at my disposal. So I enjoy watching my writing change as I am influenced by singular writers with impressive commands of English.

Today I ate breakfast in the dining room with a younger middle aged couple visiting their daughter who I decided to feed my lie story to, but the wife kept looking at me like I was lying and that made me blush and I realized that I need a better and less interesting story. So I’ve determined to read the George Washington book and develop my conversation skills, being especially mindful to direct topics away from myself, which honestly doesn’t come naturally to me when I’m in the middle of my glory days- thus far. Oh just wait til I meet that special someone, Mrs. Wade! Then I can drop everything that I’ve worked to gain for many many years and be happily married, just like your dear daughter. In the mean time I’ve avoided questions about why I’m here and such. Talking to Loren last night, he brought up an interesting point. If Southerners are so proud, and resistant to apologize for anything about their history, while clinging to the prejudice against the Northerners, then why are they so surprised that I’m here? It seems an odd show of uncertainty

After breakfast, harboring disappointment that I couldn't stay another night even though I had allowed myself to sprawl out my things last night like I was, I got in my car, circled the center marketplace, and found a nice shady parking spot. Savannah has an excellent layout for public parking, and there are spaces everywhere. I had seen a mob outside the restaurant I had intended to try out (Lady & Sons), so I walked to another pub that Heather at the front desk said she frequented for "excellent food." At Churchill's English Pub (I know, right? There were a bunch of them in town) I had the pleasure of tasting the best crab cakes yet consumed by my person, served with a perfectly spiced chili mayonnaise, while I watched people walk by in front of the river. I also needed leaves so I ordered a salad. And man, that beer selection, I had to get one. I mean, they have Corsendonk on tap! So I tried out the Highland Cold Mountain Winter Ale, which is somewhat local out of Asheville NC , and oof was that flavorful. I don't often order winter brews because they're too spiced, but this was quite nice with a clean beginning and a thicker finish with casual overtones of cane sugar and coffee. Very refreshing. So after lunch I walked around with a coffee and my iPod playing Fountains of Wayne and blended with the locals, except I only had a purse on my arm, not a boyfriend with my bags in tow. Hehe. There are great shops in Savannah! I especially enjoyed Go Fish, which only sells their name products, from belts and tacky statues to cute southern belle flowy skirts and old woman printed overalls. Today was the first day I was really sad to leave a place. Charleston and I

just didn't get along like this riverfront legend . I want to go back. Things I missed doing: reading at one of the 21 beautiful squares; walking all over the mile-square historical district and discovering the perfect store, gallery, or restaurant; going to the Lucas Theater for classic films or concerts; walking along the river, exploring where Glory was filmed; and yes, strolling the town in the height of summer with a mint julip in my hand. That last one was recommended to me by a friend, but I didn't realize it was legal!

Tomorrow, after exploring Cumberland Island, I will begin the leg of dissecting the south. Hehe. Driving through many states in hopefully just a few days, I will avoid cramps and cops while I try to get a good taste of the culture. So I’m going to start my ‘Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood’ book on cd.