Woke up...Fell out of bed...Dragged comb across my head...."Beatles".
Somewhat a repeat of yesterday for the morning hours. I did another workout/walk down the beach. This time with shoes. Unfortunately, I am now sporting a little limp from the previous barefoot experiment. Never again, I tell ya. These fragile little nubbins will forever be sheathed in the finest JC Penny cotton sock booties.
Mark, Pam, Steve and Connie were conquering another golf course. Sandra and Alexa were heading to the beach, and I believe Karen was hanging around the pool. We're all operating according to our own clocks. But with the intent that we meet back at the house mid-afternoon and head off to Savannah for a night on the town. Sandra made reservations at the "Pink House" months ago as this pre-revolutionary house was a hot commodity and hard to get into.
We did the back-of-the-envelope math and figured we would need two cars for this venture. The Landcruiser was a possibility, but it comfortably seats 4, and uncomfortably seats 7. With eight of us, it saved 5 people the awkwardness of constant physical contact for the hour trip.
When Alexa pulled in yesterday, I asked her how much gas she used getting from Athens to Hilton Head. "Half a Tank, Dad. No problem". Awesome! That should be enough to do a round-trip... Not so fast. Apparently, at UGA, students are taught to believe when the needle hits 1/4 tank; it's a round-up situation. This Common Core math is crap (memo: write my congressman)! So, gas on the way out of town, right? Nope...first stop we actually did find one of those stations actually out of gas. So it wasn't a hoax. OK, I'm sure Savannah has some gas, and a quarter tank....maybe.
Through the bumps and potholes through SC and GA we were able to find a gas station along the way...which took that back-burner concern of Gas Shortage off the radar. We whipped along the highway, then dropped into Savannah at around 4pm or so. Our 8 person caravan was descending on Savannah like Sherman's march to the sea. Except, we weren't armed; or had any intent to burn fields...but, I'm sure that were pretty hungry too.
It was "Square" here, "Square" there! Everywhere a "Square, Square" as we hit a bunch of the neat historical stops along the self-guided walking tour. A fair amount of walking was in order, but the sun wasn't too hot, and with the thought of a "Hot Meal" at the end of the day, made me feel 10 years old again--Only this 10 year old likes Wine and Manhattan’s with his dinner.
Sandra guided us through the blocks where nearly each house had something historically important to say. We saw where Sherman slept; where Oglethorpe slept, and on a couple of benches, where the panhandlers slept. Sandra pointed out the various Bed-and-Breakfast places she, Karen and Alexa had stayed over the course of Alexa's tenure at UGA. I think I recognized the one Sandra and I stayed at; but I couldn't be sure unless I rounded the corner and could see the Six Pence Pub. So, we'll leave that as a mystery to be solved at a later time.
Near 7pm, we started back to the first Square we were parked and got in line for our reservation at 8pm. Good news! We still have a reservation. The "Pink House" was terrific. It really is an old house where tables are spread out through different rooms. I think we were in the parlor; or maybe the anti-room. But as a party of eight, we had the grown-ups table in the middle of the room with a couple of satellite couples placed in the corners. Down in the basement was an actual place where battles were planned and ale was had (probably Revolutionary and Civil).
After a nice, yet expensive dinner; what wouldn't be complete without a card-switch at the end. I ended up with Marks card and his mine on the tab...boy! I sure got the better end of that deal. Them Manhattan’s ain’t cheap. But given the stability of the Karma universe was at stake, we put it all into balance. Whew, destruction of the universe averted—Buddha would be satisfied.
The trip back to the house was darker, but just as bumpy. Now, back...we crashed fast.