Friday, M ay 31, 2019

Some times when you enter a restaurant you want more than just food. There is that certain ambiance  you seek. Kind of like matching a certain earthy single malt Scotch whiskey to that perfect Cuban cigar. Or the right limoncello with that perfect Swiss chocolate. The Hi Lo Lounge is such a place. Located in the Normal Neighborhood of Athens, Georgia, it has a charm all its own. By the way, I was curious to know if there is an Abnormal Neighborhood in the city. But then I googled it. There was once a teachers' college, State Normal School here, hence the name.  Now it is better known as the hipster part of Athens. 


On certain nights quite a few years ago the sounds of the B-52's and Michael Stipe and REM would echo through the neighborhood. But not tonight. 

We arrived as the Georgia sun was sinking low, but the heat of the fiery orb caressed my skin with fire and etched long shadows on the sidewalk. The temperature today had been near the triple digit mark. 
A patron unknown to us held the door while our friend negotiated entry in a rolling chair backwards. It seemed cooler inside but it could have been the dimly lit interior that brought false comfort. There was a lady about my age teaching a youngster a game with a set of large ceramic dominoes. The sixteen tables seemed to be occupied. But, after waiting a few minutes in the shabby decor, a man occupying a table alone offered us his table.  He was a young man. But when you're seventy-five almost all men are young!  Mid-twenties, I would guess. He was tall and slim but not skinny and had light brown hair in dreadlocks. Could he have had hair extensions? Each muscular arm had a tattooed sleeve. He was dressed in faded jeans and Birkenstocks and the graphic on his t-shirt was faded too. His smile exposed pearly white teeth and his brown eyes had a permanent squint like someone who spends a lot of time in the sun. We thanked him for his kindness and we set about checking out the menu. 

We had picked the Hi Lo because of its vegan offerings. We have been following a plant-based diet for almost two years. Its been good for us, but finding food at restaurants has not been easy.  The menu was interesting with quite a few vegan options. There did not seem to be a wait staff. I asked a guy in an apron delivering food to diners and he said we had to order at the bar. The bar was on the other side of a wall, but I could see it with a cash register through an opening the size of a double door. We perused the menu and made our choices. I picked a slaw dog and black bean chili. The ladies had a Czechwich and a falafel sandwich. I went to the counter to order. On the chalk board behind the bar was listed a number of craft beers. I chose a local stout. Negra Modello, my favorite beer, was not available. I prefer to help the Mexican economy rather than the Chinese. The girl taking our order was rather cute with a northeastern accent. Southern girls tend to be a rarity in larger Southern cities nowadays. She was probably an UGA student.



 I went back to our table to await our food. Eighties rock and roll was playing in the background. I took a slug of the stout and started to feel a bit like a local. The clientele was quite a cross section of humanity. At the table next to me a rotund bearded young man was busy with his laptop computer. The buttons on his shirt threatened to free themselves with each breath he took. His cellphone was attached to the laptop and he would occasionally refer to an iPad. I peeked at his screen. There were scrolling columns of data. What was it? I could not tell. Maybe he was a spy! Or a video game designer. There may be little difference. His stare was concentrated on the screen over his horn-rimmed glasses. Occasionally, he would speak to his friend who seemed to be playing a game on a tablet. Then, he would take a drink of the beer at his right hand. A preppy looking young man in his early thirties stopped to chat a few minutes with the pair. They seemed to be friends. A few minutes before our food arrived two young women joined the young man with the dreadlocks. One was less pudgy than the other, but both were dressed in a style somewhere  between college student and streetwalker. They seemed to be well acquainted with the young man. They brought him a champaign flute. They squeezed onto the bench beside him, obviously trying to maximize physical contact.

The food was great! Food was the reason we were there. A Czechwich is predominantly a chunk of fried cheese with various accompaniments on a sandwich roll. The falafel sandwich was filled with various veggies. Both ladies said their food was very good. My slaw dog was 


eatable. The pseudo wiener was quite tasty, but the slaw left a lot to be desired. It showed no imagination and creativity. When I eat out I expect the cook to cook better than I do or at least as good! Now the black bean chili was something to write home about. ( Should I update that to "text home about"?) The beans were plump and succulent and it had a bit of heat and that unmistakable taste of non-milk chocolate

Food is good at the Hi Lo Lounge. And it delivers in ambiance too.  The next time I'm in Athens I'll be eating there.

A Museum of Civil War at Sea

Main gallery NCWNM

In the city of Columbus, Georgia, on the banks of the Chattahoochee River, lies a very special museum.  Within forty thousand square feet of exhibit space encased by red brick of Georgia clay is the only American museum with artifacts and exhibits commemorating naval warfare of the greatest military struggle within our borders, the American Civil War.

As soon as you arrive at 1002 Victory Drive you realize you are at some place special.  One hint is the full-size reproduction of  a Civil War side-wheeler and a huge selection of naval cannon. As you enter the building, which was completed in 2001, the information booth is on the right adjacent to the gift shop and, of course, the exit.  There is no admission fee, but a volunteer contribution of five dollars is expected. A large exhibition area is visible and the lecture area is flanked by three huge paintings totaling over fifty feet. They depict the ships of the opposing navies. In the distance the ruins of the ironclad C.S.S. Chattahoochee are visible.

The hull of the C.S.S. Jackson

An opening in a wall to the left the size of a garage door leads to the center piece of the museum. It is the one hundred eighty foot long hull of the  C.S.S. Jackson (a.k.a. C.S.S. Muscogee). The ironclad warship was reclaimed from the mud of the nearby Chattahoochee. Ironclads were the very epitome of naval technology in the Civil War. Many small creeks and rivers throughout the south had shipyards producing such vessels. Our tour was self guided, sort of. Throughout the museum  life size cut-outs of "powder monkeys" point the way. Powder monkeys were the names given to the young boys who carried gunpowder to the cannoneers who manned the huge guns. Glass display cases abound filled with weapons, model ships, uniforms and even a surgeon's attire with bloodstains from the aforementioned armed conflict. A big screen monitor has a never ending lecture playing about weapons and weaponry. A life-size reproduction of the U.S.S. Monitor's turret adds to the authenticity of the Monitor exhibit. All captions on ship models and artifacts are easily read and interpreted. A broadside of the U.S.S. Hartford, Admiral David Farragut's flagship in the battle of Mobile Bay is reproduced. An actual small boat from that ship is on display.  The wardroom, berthing deck and the captain's cabin are also reproduced. We had seen similar displays at the Spanish Naval Museum in Madrid and the U.S. Navy Museum at the Navy Yard in Washington, D.C.

C.S.S. Albemarle

Near the Monitor turret is a man-sized opening leading into semi-darkness. As your eyes adjust you find yourself walking on a wooden pier.  On your left are shops with illuminated display windows.  On your right tied up to the pier is a full size replica of the Confederate ironclad Albemarle.  The muzzle of a 6.4 inch Brooke rifle peers from the superstructure. A gangplank leads to the interior of the vessel. It is quite dark inside the vessel but we can see the interior with the huge cannon and the helm from which the ship is steered. We exited through what appears to be the rear of the vessel into another exhibit hall. 

with the guide

We allowed ourselves four hours to bask in the history of the Civil War navies of the North and South.  It was indeed time well spent.  

Alabama versus Georgia (this is not about football)

The incident I am about to relay to you happened in the early 1940s. Recently, on a trip to Fort Benning, Georgia, a guide at the  National Infantry Museum told us a story about one of the U.S. Army's most colorful generals. 

Gen. Geo. S. Patton, Jr.

As you would imagine in 1940 Fort Benning, Georgia was a hubbub of activity. On the European continent The forces of Adolf Hitler were rapidly conquering neighboring countries. The swastika of Germany flew over Austria, Poland, Denmark, Luxembourg, Netherlands, Belgium, Norway and France. The training of soldiers were top priority at the fort in Columbus, Georgia.  At that time the 2nd Armored Division had as its training officer was one Colonel George S. Patton, Jr.  Patton would be promoted to brigadier general and assume command of the 2nd Armored Division whose tagline was "Hell on Wheels" later that year. It  was when he was commander of the tankers that the following incident occurred. 

Geographically, Fort Benning sits adjacent to the city of Columbus, Georgia, on the banks of the Chattahoochee River.  Across the river is the smaller city of Phenix City, Alabama. At that time and a few decades later the city was ruled by organized crime. The city was famous for its houses of ill-repute, bars and gambling establishments. All of these were super inducements to the soldiers of Fort Benning. They were the red flag to the Army's bulls.  Frequently soldiers were robbed and often would return to the fort beaten and bloody after a night in Phenix City. One one particular occasion some soldiers of the 2nd Armored division were jailed by the local police.  The general requested that the chief of police release the soldiers. But, the Chief of Police of Phenix City, Alabama, refused the general's request.  George S. Patton, Jr., Brigadier General, of the United States Army was not accustomed to having his requests refused. He proceeded to persuade the chief of police to honor his request. His method was one of simplicity.  He took one of his Sherman tanks to downtown Columbus to the riverbank*. The big gun on the tank was aimed toward Phenix City. There was no response to the General's second request.  He simply gave the command, "Fire". He called the Chief of Police again and asked that the soldiers be released and that the first shot had been a warning shot and that there would not be another. Within a few minutes the soldiers cold be seen returning across the 14th Street Bridge. In the crowd of onlookers someone was heard to say, "Boy, that's blood and guts!"
And that they say at Fort Benning is how Patton got his nickname, "Old Blood and Guts".

Sherman Tank

 * Today you can still see the marks made by the tank's tracks in the street.

My First CD

I was in the Musical Instrument Museum in Phoenix, AZ and I saw a guitar case for an air guitar.  I thought that was a little bit strange.  I went home and did a little research on google and found out they have contests national contests, international contests, I think in some Scandinavian country.

What I really wanted to find was a CD of the air guitar. I never could find a CD of the air guitar so I decided to make my own.  
And here it is. Our own CD of the air guitar.

I did all the artwork in Photoshop.  Notice I have a little blurb up here for a bonus.Gotta grab the viewers attention.
At the bottom is listed the artists that are on the compact disk.
Up here in the top left corner, notice it is rated PG-13. The production compony's name is Tonette.  Tonette being a combination of mine and my wife’s names. Tony and Claudette.

On the inside we have the CD itself, opposite we have some more copy.  Below is a little pull-out of with guitar chords and also guitar pick. I’ve always been a fan of giving a little bit more that what’s expected.

On the back cover is a list of the performers and their recordings like Gotcha by Alfredo Colbert, Caliente -Jose Garcia, Relative Noise by B. B. Steele, Brainfire by Ray O. Vac and others.  Lot of these names are reminiscent of old blues players, I really like those guys. 

And there it is.   Our own air guitar CD.

My Second Best Girl: Sophie.

Sophie

Cats. I like cats. But I haven't liked cats forever. I read that the Spaniards brought domestic cats to the new world.  Did you know they can make over one hundred sounds. I thought they could only "meow". My relationship with cats is relatively short. I've never had a pet since childhood.  When I was a little boy my sister and I  each had a kitten. Unfortunately, mine got bitten by a snake and died. That was the last pet I had except for a goldfish. My daddy always had hunting dogs, but they weren't pets. Then, when I was nigh on to sixty years old I married a lady with two cats. Marshmallow was an orange point Himalayan and Shadow was something else. Shadow was very old and finicky, but Marshie took to me right away. A few years later Marshie died suddenly of an apparent heart attack and Shadow followed later of old age. She was seventeen.

A few years later we decided that we had a mouse problem and went shopping for a cat. We found one at the shelter. There were a lot of cats at the shelter; big ones and  small ones in all different colors.  But we found the one we wanted in a cage all by herself. There was a note saying she did not play well with other cats. But that was not a problem for us so we took her home. I named her Sophie for the French actress Sophie Marceau. Remember her? She met Mel Gibson in that tent in the movie "Braveheart". Sophie is a big kitty at over thirteen pounds. Her front climbing gear had been removed. The house's curtains and upholstery was safe.  We determined she was a Norwegian Forest Cat. I have become quite fond of Sophie. Sure enough she did not get along with other cats. When a daughter brought her cat with her when she visited, Sophie  hissed and was hardly cordial. We have not had other cat visitors.

She is not real crazy about people either. When we have guests she rarely makes an appearance. I can understand why she hates children. They always want to to fondle and cuddle.  If they show her any affection she rarely responds. It is not always easy living with an antisocial cat. I've learned a bit about cats though. Sophie seems to favor almost anyone who offers food, but not always. I have seen visitors try to befriend her with all kinds of kitty treats and she will refuse the most delectable. Toys are no temptation from a stranger either. I don't quite understand it but Sophie is fond of me and I offer neither food nor treats. She is overly fond of Claudette, but then,  Claudette is the one who feeds her. I do not. But she is part of my daily routine. 

When we first got Sophie she would only "say" "meow". However, after being with us a while her vocabulary has increased exponentially. I have counted over twenty-five different sounds she makes. She is very good at begging when she wants to go out on the back porch.  It is saddening to hear her cry when she discovers one of us has left the house. I think she has trained us very well. I awake early, about five or so. Groggily I walk downstairs and position myself on the sofa facing the television, in a semi-reclining position.  I nod off and continue a night of slumber. Almost immediately, or so it seems, ( I have no concept of time while asleep.) I am awakened by a "meow" of nearly ninety decibels. (OSHA requires hearing protection in an environment with a noise level above ninety decibels.)  Sophie has arrived! She will then climb aboard my stomach,  dispersing her body weight via her four feet and lie there purring. A warm, purring, thirteen pound, ball of fur. 

Life is good!