Rock & Roll, Hot Dogs, and Other 'Murica Stuff ...

"Did you follow the instructions?" Sheila asked as we stared at the non-functioning parking meter machine.  Of course, no, I didn't, but it was irrelevant since the machine was, quite obviously, broken. Luckily, the sign next to it proclaimed that we could use the app on our phone to pay for the space, just in case the machine was broken. I have a feeling that machine never worked and was merely a ruse to get you to punch in yet one more convoluted password ("password must contain 73 characters and be a combination of letters, numbers, upper case letters, special characters  and a picture of Richard Nixon") into your phone. Turns out I had already used the parking app in Atlanta when Sheila and I attended her work Christmas party, but Surprise!!, I didn't remember my highly super secret password so now I was creating yet one more password I'll never remember using the super convenient "Forgot your password?" helpful feature.  

Mission accomplished, we went to the club entrance. Sheila & I were with Laura & Lord, visiting from Jersey for the week, and were going to see one of Lord's favorite bands. 

Small, dark, in a former life it likely reeked of stale cigarette smoke and pungent whiskey. Eddie's Attic in Decatur, GA is everything you might imagine when thinking of a rock and roll venue, and it sure played that role perfectly when it presented Dan Baird & Homemade Sin on March 8, 2017. 

The stage is a small, slightly elevated platform tucked away in a corner of the room with all of the seating directed that way. There is a sign stating that the joint is a music listening room and if you want to party and get rowdy, an adjoining patio area is available. Otherwise, the implication is, "sit down, shut up and enjoy the music". Well, in this case it was "sit back, have a great time and smile your asses off"!

Dan Baird & Homemade Sin are the perfect example of a professional American rock and roll band. This is real r&r, not some massively over-produced extravaganza where bad singers are auto-tuned and backing tracks drown out the live music. Nope, this is 'Murica; loud, smack you in the face, southern based rock that was a party from the first chord until the last. DB&HS's picture should be in Webster's dictionary under "rock and roll band". 

Truthfully, I didn't know a lot about Dan Baird, other than the fact that he was the lead singer of the Georgia Satellites. Laura's sig other, Lord, is a serious music-o-phile and he is the one that suggested we catch DB& HS during Laura and Lord's visit this past week. And the Satellites tune "Keep Your Hands To Yourself" is Laura's jam (as the kids say these days) (I'm too old to have a jam, except maybe Smuckers) so there was no way L&L were coming to Atlanta and not seeing the band. 

This band was tight ... every tune, every lick, every single hit was flawless. The drummer, whom Sheila described (accurately, BTW) as Animal from the Muppets, was kicking that band in the ass the whole show. He never missed a single accent or riff all night, and his time was impeccable!  Very powerful player ...

Mauro Magellan

The bass player was the only guy who wasn't from the South. He was from Sweden, a recent band arrival after the previous bassist was rumored to have done the stereotypical rock "crash and burn" nose dive into addiction. This new guy did his homework; big, fat tone that hit you in the chest, perfectly synced with the drummer, hit every single nuance (if you can call anything they did "nuanced") and cut with force. One hell of a good player, using a seriously road worn (for real road worn, not manufactured funk) Fender Jazz bass, playing thru an Avatar 410 using an Orange head (info provided for the bass nerds).  Great tone, perfectly dialed in. 

Micke Bjork

The lead guitar player was just what you expect to see in a rock band: a perfect showman who over-emphasized every thing he did but was so damn likable that he had you smiling all night. He had excellent rock-God chops, was completely comfortable with the guitar behind-the-back twirl, easily the best dressed and neatest band member (it's entirely possible that he was the only guy who had washed his hair that week) (for sure he was the only one who hadn't slept in his clothes) and was a pure joy to watch. That guy was absolutely having a good time. 

Warner Hodges

Dan Baird was excellent and bore the scars of a life of r&r on the road. Without appearing to be over-bearing or obnoxious, Dan was clearly the reason this band was so good ... every step of the way he nudged, steered, directed, cajoled that band to a great performance. And it was also clear that the band members loved Dan ... its possible that they had more fun than the audience did! Dan Baird is a seriously seasoned pro ...

Dan Baird

If you want to see REAL rock & roll, go catch these guys when they are in your area. You all know by now that I'm a jazz guy thru and thru, but I was incredibly glad I saw this band ... it restored my faith in the possibility that live music still exists, played by real pros who love what they are doing while still being "rock and roll". Thanks, Lord, we had a great time!

The other new experience for me while Laura was visiting was our trip to The Varsity, Atlanta's hot dog heaven. Naturally, coming from Jersey I'm comparing it to "real" dog places like Rutt's Hutt or Jimmy Buff's ... stop right there, no comparison to be made in terms of either food quality or experience. The Varsity is huge, you can probably put 20 Rutt's Hutt's and Jimmy Buff's into that building and still have room, so there is no "small shop" feeling to it. And the day we went to The Varsity it was CROWDED, I'm guessing at least 1000 people in the restaurant (no, I'm not doing the Jersey exaggeration, this joint is huge!)

The main ordering counter 

To be fair, I think it was a particularly busy night, with some kind of school trip visiting The Varsity ... the place was lousy with young teens shoving dogs in their mouths. Even with that consideration, it's clear that The Varsity is food production on a massive scale. And being the novices that were are, when Lord and I got into line to order, there really wasn't a "line" in the strictest sense of the word, more of a "human mass" standing all over the place. As we progressed, Lord took a forward position, using his well-honed, I'm-from-NYC-don't-f***-with-me skills, while I wussed out with a more traditional glazed-eye look in the back of the crowd. I was thinking, just in case Lord got tossed for line-jumping I would be in a safe line stance and the ladies wouldn't starve (stupid thought since Laura is a vegetarian and Sheila eats like a polite Southern girl) (they weren't all that motivated to stay in a massively crowded, greasy hot dog joint) (Lord and I saw the words "hot dogs" and we weren't backing down, though)

Lord is a comedian (yes, an actual comedian, for money) so his winning ways got a solid position and after about 20-30 minutes (yes, 20-30 minutes) (for a hot dog) (you can see why the ladies weren't quite so enthused) we ordered. Here's a sort of pictorial summary of the famous The Varsity dogs:

Slaw chili dogs, regular chili dogs, double burger, fries, rings

Not pictured, Laura's grilled cheese (you didn't think we were going to force a vegetarian to eat a hot dog, did you??) or Sheila's "F.O.", a frozen orange drink that was like a weak tasting cream-sicle. The food was just - okay, not bad but most definitely not worth the hype or the wait. But, The Varsity is one of those Atlanta traditions, the kind of place where all of the B.S. politicians go to get their picture taken and out-of-area folks always ask about The Varsity, so it was sort of a necessity that we eat there with L&L.  I doubt Sheila and I will be rushing back, however ...

The visit from Laura and Lord was great, an excellent 5 days. We visited what seemed to be 100 thrift stores (probably more like 7) (felt like 1000) while Laura sought out vintage bargains for her on-line resale biz (check her out on line ... Etsy = VintagePussyCatShop, eBay = Vintage Pussycat Shop). I did find a coolio pool cue, two Craftsman socket holders, a wine carrier case, a nicely broken in all leather Victorinox overnight/computer bag ($6 !!!) and a few Georgia-themed t-shirts that looked worn out and may help me to blend in with the locals (trying to shake off the Jersey) (kinda works if I don't talk) (owning a Lexus instead of a beat up F150 doesn't help).

For those that are counting (what?? you're NOT counting?), it's day #153 for me as a Georgia resident and it has been amazing, all of it ... Sheila, Georgia, retirement, southern life ... all of it. For the record, I'm still not saying "Y'all" yet, clinging onto my Jersey with both hands. But I do feel my grip loosening bit by bit ...

Sock Connoisseur? Or Just Gullible?

"You shoulda seen it, Rayleanne, you shoulda seen it with your own two eyes, this Yankee just paid $22 for a pair of socks! Walked right up to the clerk girl, slapped them socks down on the counter and never blinked when she told him they were $22! That sumbitch charged 'em, too, can you believe that? And this big ol' boy walked out the store with them socks, Rayleanne, walked over to this fancy Lexus and put them socks in the trunk! Couldn't believe what I just saw, the boy put a pair of socks in the trunk! Who does that, Rayleanne? Dumb sumbitch pays $22 for one set of socks and then puts 'em in the trunk of a fancy car! Lord, they get dumber every day ... "

Yes, that's right ... I paid $22 for a pair of socks! I'm retired for all of 24 hours and the next thing you know, I'm grossly over-paying for socks! Here's how I ended up in this mess ...

If you recall (yeah, like you all are living so vicariously through me that you remember this kind of crap), about a month ago I went with Sheila to Statesville, NC while she was doing an audit for her job. The first morning we were there, I was putting on a pair of socks and they were pretty worn in the heel, so Sheila suggested I go to the Thorlos Factory Outlet store in town and get some new socks. "They're not cheap", she said, "but they are really comfortable and will last forever."

Thorlos is like the Rolls Royce of socks, I come to find out. Now, I'm used to paying, like, $9.00 for 5 pairs of socks at Walmart or JC Penny, maybe $12 if they seem special. Plus, when I was growing up I would get all of Buzz's (my older brother) (he's #1 of 6 kids) old socks to wear, handed down to me after he got them all full of holes and stretched out. Luckily for me, our Grandma (Mom's mother, lived with us my whole childhood) would always iron our socks, effectively killing whatever toe-jam related disease Buzz tried to export to the next used sock recipient.

This what my feet looked like every day as a kid

So, knowing I'm not a sock connoisseur, when I walked into the Thorlos Outlet and saw socks for $11.75 a pair I thought to myself, "no friggin' way I'm paying that much for a pair of socks", but then I also thought that I should at least get something so Sheila wouldn't think I blew off her recommendation. (When you're an old fool like me with a pretty girlfriend, you don't take a lot of chances in getting her pissed off) (Not that she would get pissed, but why take a chance, right?) (Right?) ( #firstworldproblems)

Problem #2: When I walked into the factory outlet store these two clerks, who were, umm, senior ladies, were in a deep discussion and didn't hear me walk in. No one else was there so they weren't being discrete talking about "Smooth Move" tea concoctions ... Apparently one of them was, uhh, hmm ... a tad "backed up" and they were talking about, err, "results" in pretty specific fashion. Not exactly the type of discussion you'd expect to hear from two elderly Southern gals 1st thing in the morning.

So now I'm in this store, alone, listening (not willingly, mind you, but you couldn't avoid hearing them) and I can't just walk out without it looking like I'm grossed out, plus, there is still Problem #1, the pretty girlfriend thing to consider, so here I am actually shopping for crazy expensive socks in some factory outlet store in Statesville, NC.

The two Southern belles realize I'm there and ask if they can help. I tell them, no, I'm fine and I proceed to look at the worlds most expensive socks.  Mind you, they are "only" $11.75 a pair here, because it's a factory outlet, but I'm still aghast at the pricing and my morning breakfast is heaving up and down a little after listening to the Smooth Move talk.  But, I think to myself, this is a factory outlet so that $11.75 will probably be another 50% off, right?

Wrong. The $11.75 was the discounted price, so my two pairs of socks that I took to the register cost me $23.50 plus tax.  The clerk lady who was free flowing told me that the socks will last forever, the clerk who was ... jammed up ... was ringing me up and they both took the moment to apologize for the topic-du-jour underway upon my arrival. I played stupid (you have no idea how easy that is for me to do!) and feigned ignorance. They seemed relieved. I felt $23.50 poorer and somehow violated.

When we arrived back home In Georgia I opened my footware investment and tried on a pair of these Thorlos XDOM over-the-calf dress socks, just to see what the hoopla was all about. What!!! What the heck happened??? These socks were the most incredible gift my feet ever received!!!  They felt amazing and my feet, after 65+ years of dragging me around, didn't hurt at the end of the day! And no fear of toe-jam disease!

That's right, $22.00 a pair

I told Sheila, "These are the best socks I've ever worn!" Sheila just looked at me with an expression that said, "Of course they are, I told you they were great",  but said "I'm glad you like them", which is Georgia passive-aggressive for "You're an idiot".

For the past month I've been wearing my Thorlos XDOM socks almost exclusively when I'm not home.  At home, I'm usually barefoot, something super easy to do since we rarely wear shoes in the house and working from home you don't really need to put on socks.  But I found myself making excuses to extend the wearing of my magic socks; "I can wear them again tomorrow, I only had them on for 3 hours today" or "They don't stink too bad, I can get another day out of them". Clearly, it was time to give in and get some more socks.

I looked EVERYWHERE for a discounted price.  Thorlos obviously has a protected marketplace ... These socks are list price only, except for the factory outlet shop in Statesville NC, and I'm not driving 305 miles one way to save $10.00 on a pair of socks. That brings me to yesterday, paying $21.95 a pair for my socks. I could only buy 1 pair since that was all they had in stock, and while I admit to creative license in my opening paragraph, I'm pretty damn certain that the Bubba behind me was definitely thinking something awfully similar, if the expression on his face was any indicator.

"Dumb sumbitch, paid $22.00 for a pair of socks" ....

Buzz, still trying to creep me out ...

Retirement, Gratitude and the Future

“When I retire I’m going to _______ ”, how many of us have said this on more than one occasion? I know I have, far too many times and today is the day that it is actually official:  I am retired and I can now do that “(fill in the blank)” for real!

A ton has happened over the past several years. During my wife, Bunny’s, protracted battles with cancer and ultimate passing, I was fixated on making sure I kept working and kept bringing in money. When Bunny died, our finance guy asked me “Why are you still working?” What? Why am I still working? Of course I’m still working, because, uh, er, because … umm … still at work, because … Turns out, I didn’t need to keep working. Some cautious planning and considerable good luck left me with enough coin that I could, indeed, stop working and begin to slow down.

A lot of that good luck came from my employer over the past 20 years, AWT Environmental Services, Inc., a New Jersey based environmental site remediation services company (basically, a heavy equipment construction type company that works with yucky stuff). AWT has been like family to me, and has also treated me like family over these years. Yeah, yeah, I know that all companies say that, “We’re like one big family here”, but AWT lives that way, seriously. And I mean that in every way, good and bad …

When Bunny, who’s health had been poor for many years prior to her passing, went through any type of crisis, AWT was right along side us, being supportive, giving me whatever time I needed to get her healthy again, along with acting as a comforting cushion when I needed to relax for a few moments. And, like any true family-type relationship, we had our quarrels and squawks with each other through all of those years, too, but always ending up with a “hug & kiss”, back-to-business as usual conclusion.

So, a huge Thank You to the Postorino Family, the AWT Management team I worked so closely with over all of those years, and all of the employees who were always (okay, okay … usually … LOL) a pleasure to work with, for the long years of employment and friendship. Continued great successes to you all!

When Sheila and I met I never expected to be living here in Georgia, retired. When I first moved down south I maintained a reduced, work-from-home support schedule for AWT, maybe 25 hours a week (which typically turned into 30 or more hours, but that was no big deal) doing report writing, proposal preparation, interacting with the NJ staff, that kind of thing.  But still, the idea of not getting up and commuting to an office every day started to kinda FEEL like I was sort-of, maybe, a little bit retired. I could meet Sheila for lunch on our deck if she was working from home, or maybe join her on a business trip (some of which I have chronicled here in this blog) and work from our hotel room.

So, semi-retirement was almost like being retired. But, in some ways, not quite … I still had responsibilities, still had occasional sleepless nights where I worried about business stuff, still had to plan to completely goof-off for a day if I felt like it.

Now, I can  ... Fill-In-The-Blank ...  some of which includes paying more adequate attention to the music part of my life, recently given new inspiration with the potential of new band mates. I can also begin to finally start paying attention to the workshop area here at home, a really well-equipped functional shop that sorely needs some organization, cleaning and freshening up (Sheila has a list of projects that could easily take two generations of marginally qualified Jersey guys to complete). I will also delve much, much deeper into my writing, a topic I have only touched upon but something I greatly look forward to doing. And, of course, living my life to the fullest with Sheila, who has been an angel sent to me to keep me sane, focused and incredibly happy!

So, Happy Retirement to me!! And again, many thanks to AWT for putting up with a grumpier-than-usual Jersey guy all of those years!

Alt-Reality (huh?) & Politics (boo!!!) & New Bass (yea!!!)

I'll actually save the information about the new bass until the end of this blog posting, mostly so I can end on a positive note. That being said, let's do the Jersey thing and start negative ...

You don't get much more "Jersey" than this picture!

Have you noticed how everything is, all of a sudden, alt-reality?  President Trump lives in an alt-reality world, the press/media are fake/alt-reality, Beyoncé is all of a sudden persona non-grata because she was pissed that Adele won awards instead of her and that is now the alt-reality of Beyoncés world (what?? Yeah, I don't know either but that's what I'm reading??) .... Jeez, I'm getting old and just don't understand this new mumbo-jumbo ...

Now that President Trump is, indeed, president and President Obama is no longer in charge, my FB feeds and emails and every other method of communicating were fully clogged up with political BS. My right-leaning friends are busy telling me that the world is saved because President Trump is on the scene. My left-leaning friends are telling me that President Trump is, in fact, Hitler and that they will NEVER support anything he does.

And I'm busy clicking "ignore" or "remove from news feed" or, in certain cases, "unfriend" from all of these right & left leaning people. I have no issue with someone presenting their point of view or expressing an opinion, that's fair and is one of the reasons social media exists. But when every single post someone puts up is a "Pants on Fire" finger-pointing at President Trump to the exclusion of anything else getting posted, or when every single post someone puts up is an indictment of Hillary Clinton's many years of service and how she should be in jail, to the exclusion of anything else getting posted, that kind of stuff is tiring to the alt-extreme (can I just arbitrarily put the word "alt" in front of anything I want?)

Do I like President Trump? Nope, I do not, and it's almost impossible to imagine that he is actually President of the United States. Do I like (choice is yours) Clinton/President Obama? Nope, I do not and I'm glad President Obama is gone and equally glad Clinton lost. All of our choices in these recent, and particularly the last, elections were bad and this go-round only time will tell if the lesser offensive person is leading our country or not. One thing I do know for sure, no one can make that judgement after only a couple of weeks in the job.

I have come to realize, after my brief 4-month stint as a Georgia resident, that the major cities on the East and West coasts DO NOT IN ANY WAY represent the views of most of the country. I realize that the major cities have population count on their side, but geographically there is a lot more "the rest of the USA" than the densely populated cities would like us all to believe. I have no proof, but I'm guessing that, on a percentage of the total population basis, the so-called fly-over states have many more people voting (% wise) than the big coast city states.

After spending some time here is Georgia, in an area that has some pretty good left-leaning Atlanta-influenced people and some pretty good right-leaning country-boys, I realize that the overwhelming majority of the people in this area are pretty much like me, not left or right, but center people. Escaping the liberal craziness that is the NYC-influenced region I've come to see that most people don't think President Obama was trying to make us a Muslim country and most people don't think President Trump is a reincarnated Hilter. Most people, here in the average central thought zone, are concerned with their families, their jobs, their hobbies. And most central-zone people don't want to be force fed the alt-reality sputum that comes at us from both the left and right ... sadly, that includes an awful lot of our friends who have joined the "I can't think for myself so I'll just be nasty" ranks of the righty and lefty world.

Here's my alt-reality ... I'm, daily, reading things in a world where people have completely lost their minds and no longer think for themselves. They have taken to reposting completely irrelevant nonsense about what ever political crap de jour they saw that hour, gleefully proclaiming that the President is, in alt-reality terms, either stupid, corrupt, perverted, communist, war mongering, anti-immigrant ... Must I really continue this list? I'm not defending the President, trust me, I'm not, but how can any level thinking person call a multi-billionaire stupid?  He's a friggin' bilionaire, many times over (how are you all doing in that regard?), and figured out how to become the President of the most powerful country in the world ... And people are calling HIM stupid?  Talk about alt-reality !!!

So please, I'm begging all of you, please stop with all of these "Pants-on-Fire" posts (just an example, there are loads of other garbage posts as well). Yes, the President lies ... Just like the last 44 Presidents lied, they are all politicians, they all lie all the time ... Yes, Ms Clinton won the popular vote but that isn't how elections are decided and YOU aren't going to change that by whining incessantly about it ... Please, just stop it all, stop feeding me alt-reality right-leaning and left-leaning slop that you collected in your social media groups. I'm tired of hitting "delete" and "block" and "unfriend". And I'd like to think that many of the people I know actually have more intelligence than they appear to express on social media ... or maybe that was alt-intelligence??

Now, for something that is not alt-reality ....

Yes, it's a "real" bass

I've been lusting after an Eminence bass for several years but haven't had the opportunity to grab one until now. These buggers are expensive (you pay dearly for convenience) and while I was able to purchase one I just couldn't justify the $3500 for what seemed to be a "novelty" ... it was hard to mentally ignore the beautiful DB's I already own. So what if they are hard to move around, it wasn't worth paying that kind of coin just for convenience, right? Turns out, I was wrong ...

This bass is the real deal, no joking around. It might look like an emaciated upright bass forced into a starvation diet, but the double bass details are there in full force.Full sized neck (for the bass nerds; 41.5" D neck), fully adjustable bridge, good under a bow, soundpost, highly variable end pin (plenty of height, even for a tall dork like me), everything is double bass worthy ... except for the acoustic tone, which is thin and soft. But once you plug it in it opens up just like any amplified double bass.

The cool thing about this bass is that it comes apart for traveling. The neck detaches at the body of the bass, effectively cutting the size down to something that fits into a standard hard shell golf club case. This is huge for those of us who have been moving these big boys for all of these years. Trying to get a DB onto a plane is a major PITA and the odds are good that it will arrive with some sort of damage.

Shipping case

With this Eminence bass design I can easily pack up the bass into the case, catch a flight up to Jersey and do a gig that night. Of course, the gig needs to pay more than $50 bucks for that to happen and those dates are getting to be few and far between.  Nonetheless, the opportunity to easily move this bass is there and I love it. I am available to come to you with the bass, but make it a good paying gig with a meal and some scotch, then maybe we can talk.

Bella,checking out the packing job

Speaking of music opportunities, it has been far too quiet on my end in that regard. A big chunk of the fault lies with me (okay, maybe most of the fault) (all right, all right ... ALL of the fault), I have been very busy getting settled in here in Georgia and haven't put much of a push into finding the right situation. And I've set some restrictive boundaries that I'd like to maintain:

• No playing in night clubs until 2:00 am for crappy pay
• No twice-a-week rehearsals (learn your parts on your own, before wasting everyone's time)
• No 2 hour round trip travel for rehearsals (easy to do here in the greater Atlanta area)
• Play only with GOOD musicians, not guys that are just learning (or re-learning ... "I played in a band in high school and I'd like to start up again" or "It's been a lot of years but I used to know about 20 songs" or "My wife bought me a guitar for Christmas, can you tune it for me before rehearsal?"). I don't mean to be snotty but learn on your own time
• Play jazz, not some blues/R&B derivation. I know that market for jazz sucks, but that's what I'm looking for
• I DO NOT PLAY FOR FREE ... don't ask

Now, the rest is up to me, time to stop messing around and either get serious or start selling some basses. I had lunch today with an old friend and it was embarrassing to have to make excuses about where my music "career" is/isn't right now. I have enough junk to make excuses for, I don't need to add music to that list.

So many things are going so great, it's time to to make it all good ... get rid of social media negativity (which has already made a huge difference in my feed by eliminating those nasty, politically biased posts and posters leaving me with good music info, nice personal life details from friends that haven't hit the "unfriend" pile, even some cool dog video stuff), enjoy this beautiful new life with Sheila and get music back up and running the way it should be!

Bella, waiting for Spring!

Aiken SC - Great Visit!!

We just spent a few days with Beth & George at their sort-of new home in Aiken, SC. Aiken is a small equestrian-centric town deeply soaked in history, particularly as it relates to horses, polo, and fox hunts. George was a wonderful tour guide, growing up in this area left him well prepared to show us the immediate "must-see" sights.  We'll definitely be back to see more ... Beth is one of Sheila's very best friends and the fact they live in such a sweet community is just a huge bonus!

It's a cool place that was started in the late 19th century. Aiken pretty quickly gained a rep as a winter-time retreat spot for people with big bucks. Wealthy northerners began visiting during the harsh winters and the Aiken area became the "Winter Colony",  a place to let loose, away from the NY society columnists!  The Winter Colonists brought their horses to Aiken to extend their equestrian activities throughout the year. Riding, racing, fox hunting and polo were among the top favorites. You can feel that total attitude throughout the place when visiting.

The first night we went to The Wilcox Inn, an historic old hotel in the heart of Aiken. Really pretty place reminiscent of all the old Inns you see in so many classic movies on TMC. They had a VERY good jazz band called "4 Cats in the Doghouse" playing (and they were good, too, and not just because it was in SC). Spent the evening having grown-up beverages and fantastic light fare (blue cheese on graham crackers with a cherry & clove jam, just ridiculous good) and talking with best friends in a classic southern inn ... Darn near perfect ...

The Wilcox Inn

3 of the 4 Cats

Sheila - in her element

The next day we spent touring the area and poking around some nice shops in the downtown district. Apparently there was a major antiques event under way ... Downtown was packed with "well-heeled" dealers paying some "well-heeled" prices for this stuff!  Sheila and I prefer the local Georgia auction where chaos and mayhem can result in some great finds (not to mention sausage biscuits at 9:00 pm), all this high falutin' fancy antique talk was out of my league. Well, in fairness, since meeting Sheila, pretty much everything is out of my league ... (She seemed pretty comfortable with the rich people, though) ( and again making me wonder what she sees in a bass player from NJ with a dumb dog?)

As a jolt back to my Jersey roots reality, the morning we left, Beth and George took us to the Track Kitchen for breakfast. This is a ... ah ... umm ... hmm ... shack-type building in the middle of the primary polo fields area. With dirt rounds surrounding it ... in deference to the horses the entire area has dirt roads ... this place is as no-frills as the plain exterior. Inside, it's obvious that no-frills is the theme they've chosen, with hand-printed cardboard signs tacked up above the countertop. Which is really just a wall with a 2x6 nailed onto the studs.

This place was originally established to feed the trainers, jockeys, stablemen, groomers ... it was set up as a place to hang with the people you work with, swap stories, just a good old get together spot. It was never intended to be fancy ... and it's not. They serve mostly breakfast foods and are open from 7:00 am until they run out of stuff to cook. The exterior sign kind of indicates that, mostly thru innuendo:

The Track Kitchen has pictures all over the walls ... I'm fairly certain not one of them was straight, or if it was straight, it was by accident.  I remember, when we were kids, my father used to screw all of the pictures (can't really call it artwork when it's a picture clipped out of Mad Magazine, can you?) directly to the wall with 4 screws, one on each side, so the herd of kids wouldn't keep knocking them sideways. The Track Kitchen could learn a thing or two from the OM (an abbreviation for "old man") (we all called him OM, except for Barb, my sister, who was his favorite) (hey, don't think we were disrespectful, HE call every single one of us "Charlie", including my sister) about how to put up a picture and "make sure the damn thing stays there"!  And they would need some big old screws, too, just to be sure the picture didn't move.

And it would have been great if the pictures were secured, because then you'd never see the grimy outline where the picture used to be. But since the OM did not decorate, the pics move and it's pretty obvious that the place hasn't been painted in a very long time. Strangely enough, the Track Kitchen was featured in a kinda hoity-toity magazine called "Saveur" (see pic, below) where it's was called "supremely casual" and a "beloved domain": if it was in Jersey it would be called "out-of-business" ...

George & Beth

Sheila & me

Although you can't see them, the folks sitting directly behind us are the owners of the 2013 Belmont Stakes winner. This joint might be seriously no-frills, but the thing I liked about it the most is that they didn't give two hoots who you were ... you get waited on in the order you come in, you wait like everyone else, no special treatment because you happen to be a zillion-aire ...

But, to be fair, the food was good (can you really mess up eggs, bacon, home fries and toast, though?), and in keeping with local hoity-toity traditions, much too expensive. I mean, $9 for 2 eggs, toast, hash browns, bacon and coffee? In Jersey, that's $7, tops, and the diner has been cleaned sometime in recent memory. I also liked that you walk into the kitchen area and get your own beverage. You can have "tea water", "decaf" or "real coffee" ...

Coffee Station - "real coffee" is out of view

A pic of the framed pics and menu board

 In spite of what must read as a highly negative review, I was thrilled with this place! The food was good, service was slow but everything is cooked one order at a time, so you (and Mr Belmont Stakes winner) just wait your turn until it's ready. And be careful how you order ... Sheila said the first time she visited Beth they went to the Track Kitchen and Sheila ordered her bacon extra crispy! She was immediately told "well, now, I don't know 'bout all o' that", the cautionary tale delivered with hands on hips and an accusatory raised eyebrow ... Sheila learned her lesson, eat what's served, which in our case was absolutely 100% perfect bacon!

Big love to Beth and George for their wonderful hospitality during our trip, we are really looking forward to a return visit during polo season!