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There’s an 80-degree swing here

I think we’re going to make this our online Christmas card. If you receive this in your inbox just know we ran out of stamps.

That’s in Savannah’s City Market. I saw some pictures of this area in a museum earlier in the day. The modern place looks a bit different than the 19th and turn-of-the-20th century market. There is less cotton and other crops and far more tourists now.

Still have horses, though they now are part of the tourist trade, carrying around people in carriages. And also eating ducks. Who knew?

Savannah, it seems to us, feels less festively decorated this year. We’ve been walking through the historic districts under overcast skies and in several layers of clothing wondering where all of the extra lights and garland are. My guess is that they cut back on the manpower budget to hang it all.

Still a lovely city. Always is. At least in our experience. For a place that sells so much of itself on ghosts and deaths and the more sordid parts of its history you can’t find a much more charming place, even if the Christmas atmosphere is down.

There are less people here right now, too, it seems. We mind this less than most of the local merchants, I’m sure. We’ve walked in to every restaurant with no wait. We haven’t had to dodge people, even on the tourist trap River Street. Part of that is the weather, the mid-week visit and probably the economy. Maybe everyone has been here and is off exploring a new place.

Here is the monument to the Chasseurs Volontaires, the Haitians who fought in Savannah during the Revolutionary War:

It is apparently the first such monument in the U.S. It was installed in Franklin Square in 2009. And because this happened in the modern age, there was outrage and money and indignation:

Here’s the Mercer House. We’ve been in this square before. I don’t recall actually noticing the house, though:

From the site’s history page:

The Mercer House was designed by New York architect John S. Norris for General Hugh W. Mercer, great grandfather of Johnny Mercer. Construction of the house began in 1860, was interrupted by the Civil War and was later completed, circa 1868, by the new owner, John Wilder.

In 1969, Jim Williams, one of Savannah’s earliest and most dedicated private restorationists, bought the then vacant house and began a two-year restoration.

You have your origin story and your Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil story. There is a 100-year blank space in between. Makes you wonder what you’re missing out on, doesn’t it?

So we wandered around. We took shots in Forsyth Park as the sun went down. Here’s the big fountain:

We had dinner at 700 Drayton, which was where we had our dinner reception the night we got married. Delicious.

On those rare occasions when we order a dessert we split one between us. Our waiter brought us a second dessert because, he said, in his estimation the chef took too long to prepare our cake.

We walked next door to the Mansion, where we got married.

As we noted it was much cooler today than it was on that steamy, sunny June day in 2009:

About 80 degrees cooler once you consider the heat index.

By the time we walked back to our hotel, though, I’d have taken anything in between.

adventures / food / iPhone / memories / photo / video / Wednesday — Comments Off
12
Dec 12

There is far too much food here

We had dinner at The Olde Pink House last night.

We made it to Savannah just in time to change clothes and walk over from our hotel to the restaurant. The Yankee had the almond encrusted tilapia. I had the crispy duck. Also, try the she crab soup, and definitely enjoy the praline basket with vanilla bean ice cream, berries and chocolate sauce for dessert.

We did not see Mr. Habersham. James Habersham Jr., an important financial player during the Revolutionary War, built the house in the late-1700s. He’s said to be one of the spirits in the house, straightening things up, helping people to tables (according to the ghost tour folklore) and so on.

There are videos on YouTube. There are always videos on YouTube.

On the subject of food, we had a late breakfast at Clary’s, which we always visit:

For the first time in all of our visits here over the years Ms. Maggie wasn’t working.

I don’t take pictures every visit, but I do this one when I remember:

This is our first visit to Clary’s, more than seven years ago.

Here’s another visit, just five years ago. You’ll notice the paintings change, but the paint doesn’t. And that green orb lamp is still in the background.

We’ll go back again tomorrow.

It has rained on us most of the day. And it has been cold. I left my camera behind, so all of my shots from the day were on my phone. We visited the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist, where we saw the most involved nativity scene ever — rabbits, ducks, sheep, lambs, Optimus a pink turtle, floating angels from central casting, dogs and cats. You had to look hard to find the Optimus Prime. We shopped. We enjoyed the day without any plan whatsoever, which is an unusually rare experience, but altogether lovely.

We took the ferry across the channel of the Savannah River to see the gingerbread houses on display at the Westin. There were almost 100 there, including some amazing work.

Here are a few of them, many floating in an ethereal cotton cloud city. The winner is in here, as are most of the houses that will take home ribbons. At the end you’ll find my favorite, The Yankee’s favorite and the hotel general manager’s favorite. Of course it was a giant replica of their hotel, so it was a ringer:

For dinner we drove through the rain out to Tybee Island and ate at a sleepy little crab shack called The Crab Shack, which we’ve never seen sleepy before. We watched the wind blow on the windows and stared at the giant Christmas tree lights floating out in the water. It was topped by a tremendous yellow light crab, who no doubt was incensed by our eating his delicious actual crab brethren.

Tomorrow the rain will be gone. It’ll just be a bit colder. We’ll have no plan and a great time, same as today.

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8
Dec 12

Sad football

Stayed up too late last night — this morning, really — and slept in. Made brunch.

Watched some quality DII football, where a quarterback who broke 5,000 yards in a single season. Old Dominion’s Taylor Heinicke broke a record held by the great Steve McNair. Remember McNair? Before his NFL career you heard about him almost every week at tiny Alcorn State. You’ve never heard of this Heinicke guy. But he puts up the yards.

It all ended for him, though. Old Dominion fell to Georgia Southern, with the last three drives of his sophomore season ending with a fumble, a failed fourth down and an interception.

And then the Army Navy game. I always cheer for Navy, the Department of the Navy has always been good to me. As the game progressed I began to think maybe I’d like Army to win.

Just this once. Maybe everyone should know beating their rival at least once during their career. Three generations of Army players now haven’t had this experience. So it would be a good thing for the Black Knights to drive down this field, overcome some ridiculous play calling that should have already meant a tie ballgame, and punch it in in the final seconds to take home the glory.

And then the fumble happened, and then Trent Steelman had a complete meltdown.

You have to feel bad for that guy, a leader among men. He had it. They had it. All of that hard work and then a bizarre fumble on a routine play they’ve done hundreds of times. Heartbreaking. But when a three-star and a sergeant major are trying to comfort you …

Tough stuff. Hate that that is the last moment of real college football for the year, but it is fitting, too.

She couldn’t watch:

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7
Dec 12

I wrote a review

Dave Brubeck, who invented the notes that landed between the things that you don’t play that mean you’re making jazz, recently died. Everyone that is knowledgeable about his importance to music can talk far more about this than I can.

But someone found footage of a concert he performed at Samford in the 1980s. Not sure why it is in black and white. Just enjoy the show:

Since I mentioned Bo Jackson yesterday … The War Eagle Reader asked me to write a little preview of the 30 for 30 on him, which debuts tomorrow. I had the chance to watch it last night:

The first story is from retired baseball coach Hal Baird, “I saw Bo jump over a Volkswagon.”

The second story, the one about Jackson standing in thigh-high water and doing a standing back flip, is from one of his coaches at McAdory High School. I’ve heard that one from a few different people that fit in that period of Jackson’s young life.

There’s the story about Jackson throwing a football up to the scoreboard before the Sugar Bowl. Randy Campbell told me that one himself.

Dickie Atcheson, his high school football coach, talks about Jackson using a pole vault pole designed for 180-pounders. Bo cleared 13 feet at 215 pounds.

There’s another story where he literally destroyed a batting cage in front of the top scout for the New York Yankees. In high school. With one hit.

Baird didn’t mention the story about hitting three home runs into the lights at Georgia as a freshman. No one told the story about the home run he hit that carried halfway over the football field. The one about when he came back to the high school after his hip replacement. He was still faster than everyone, including the kid that would capture most of his high school records.

Bo Jackson was amazing:

Bo Jackson is amazing. Always will be.

I only wish the documentary covered Bo Bikes Bama. Because HE SCARED TORNADOES OUT OF THE STATE.

You Don’t Know Bo was directed by Michael Bonfiglio (you can read TWER’s interview with him here). It premieres on ESPN on Dec. 8th at 9 p.m.

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6
Dec 12

The there-ness of it

What I’ll be doing next May:

I don’t think he’s Kahn. I think he’s Gary Mitchell even less. That’s part of the fun at this point, but you don’t even want to allow yourself that much fun. You know, eventually, you’re going to find out who Benedict Cumberbatch is playing. There will be one too many teasers, or interviews. Someone will see it and write it online. Best not to suspend disbelief at all, then, right?

That shot of the ship stumbling into the water is impressive, though.

My high school was in the state championship football game tonight at Jordan-Hare. I don’t follow them at all — haven’t been to a game since my senior year — but they’ve had a great season. They came into the night 14-0. Their defense hadn’t allowed more than two scores in any one game all season.

The head coach struggled and stammered his way through an embarrassing health class my sophomore year.

They apparently lost their quarterback at the start of the season. The kid calling plays is really a defensive player; still, he’s done well.

Despite a handful of NFL players and more than their share of kids making big college teams this was the first time my school has been in the big game. They let the kids check out early to make the trip to the game. And they’re letting them check in late tomorrow if they made the trip.

They played one of the state’s powerhouses, and they were in rhythm tonight. My school was badly beaten.

They were showing the net yards on the scoreboard. My alma mater broke 100 yards three times. They’d get over and then there was a penalty, moving them back. They’d get over and then turn over the ball. They’d get over and then suffer a sack. This was in the third quarter, when it had become clear that everything was going right for one team and wrong for the other.

The student body cheers, apparently, haven’t changed. The band is not as good as I remember.

One of the players, after the game, said “We had good chemistry on this team … We laughed. We had fun. Now we’re crying, but we did it all.”

But, hey, they made it there. Played on one of the big fields, saw themselves on the big HD screen, got a runners-up trophy for the big display case, met Bo Jackson — the most famous alumni — and dressed in the same locker room he once used. They made it there.

“It was a good season.”