Savannah

After two years of on and off reading, I finally finished a book I began reading in the summer of 2009.  The book is called Blue Highways and was written by Wiliam Least Heat-Moon. 

On a February day in 1978, William Least Heat-Moon set off on a journey.  In order to get away from the turmoils in his life that had rapidly piled up and to do as Simon and Garfunkle did when they "walked off to look for America," Heat-Moon set off to see the United States by means of the "blue highways," the smaller roads that lead to smaller places.  And it is Heat-Moon I can thank most for inspiring me to do the same thing.

This week, I am on a similar journey.  Unlike Heat-Moon, I am not on this journey because my life is falling out from underneath my feet.  My reasons is much more simple.  I am in Savannah/Tybee Island, Georgia to visit a friend and to have one last break before school starts.  My trip is like Heat-Moon's in that I long to see and experience the simple, more local things that Savannah and Tybee Island, Georgia have to offer. 

Thus far on my trip, I have gotten the opportunity to eat at three local eaterires.  The first one was a joint named Spanky's.  Spanky's, located perfectly next to Tybee beach and the pier, is a joint known for their chicken fingers.  I have to admit, I didn't get their chicken fingers, but their cheese quesadilla was wonderful... and cheap.  They also allowed me to sit there for awhile and write away from the blazing Georgia heat.

The second place I ate was my favorite.  It is called Huc-A-poos and it is the epitome of a quality, local cuisine.  With food names such as the "Hellcat Hotdog" and customers who claim to be "ministers of the church of spiriutal humanism," Huc-A-Poos is swimming in personality.  While there, I had two huge slices of pizza that I engineered myself.  Not to mention, the prices were far below what the food was worth.

The third joint was a hole in the wall, literally.  I didn't think to get the name of it, but if you go down the street that leads to the pier, you will find a barbecue and hot dog place with a yellow, overhanging eave.  The barbecue sandwich was memorable, but the kind, old, black man that served me was even more memorable.

My trip down to Georgia thus far has not consisted of eating only.  I have also continued on a journey that started in high school.

The summer before my junior year of high school, I was on my way to Alaska for a mission trip and for the first time got to play guitar for tips.  While in the Seattle airport, I made $8 dollars before the airport police escorted me back to my gate.  Ever since then, that sort of venue has been in my blood.  What I didn't know then, and still don't understand, is that playing guitar for tips is frowned upon almoast everywhere you go.  Living in a place where you never see anybody playing music in the streets, I always enjoy it stumbling upon it.. 

Well, yesterday my journey to legal "panhandling" began at the Savannah City Hall where I was hoping to attain a permit.  After an hour and a half of going from office to office, my hunt for that little blue piece of paper giving my permission to play guitar in public areas for tips was ended in Daffin Park.  There, at the office of leisure services, I learned only a certain number of people were granted such a permit and that you have to be a Chatham County resident to get one.

Being persistent, I thought I would try my luck on Tybee Island where my friend works.  Unfortunately, I got the same answer at the Tybee City Hall.  There was a glimpse of hope for me, though, as I was initally given permission to play in front of thew Waves Surf Shop.  But, those who were farthest up the food chain cut my legs out from underneath me and discontinued my permission to perform there.

I'll end this blog post with this.  While I was in St. Augustine, Florida, two of my friends and I asked a police officer where to go to see some of the sights of the town.  His response was dishearthneing.  Instead of sending us to a good local place to eat, he tried to send us to some sort of Ripley's amusement just a little ways away.  Now, I know that those sort of things attract qutie a crowd and he was just trying to appease the tourists, but I was looking for America, not Hollywood. 

So, the next time you go to look for America, take the "blue highways."