As we arrived in Savannah this weekend to celebrate the Mistress of Sarcasm’s birthday, I could not help but think back to a more somber visit to the Beautiful Lady with the Dirty Face, a visit that had taken place exactly one year prior. For it was a year ago that a crew of Jawja Blown-Eyed Blodgers converged in this quintessentially Southern town to attend the funeral of the one, the only Acidman, Rob Smith hizzownself.
It was only two days ago that I was listening to a 1979 recording of the Fabulous Smith Brothers - Rob and Dave - playing “Fish and Whistle.” Those boys made beautiful music. Last year I had been fortunate enough to hear them both: Rob at the Austin meet, and Dave (a mere month later, alas) at Rob’s funeral. My only regret was that I never got to hear them play together.
This evening, She Who Must Be Obeyed and I took the Mistress out to dinner at a new place just south of Forsyth Park, Local 11-Ten, arriving there as dark clouds gathered in the sky to the north and lightning flashed threateningly. We settled into our seats and proceeded to enjoy a superb meal. The Mistress and I each ordered the hanger steak, which Local 11-Ten serves with a silky-smooth Yukon Gold potato purée and a bunch of roasted scallions, set off by a glossy demi-glâce. I washed mine down with a couple of Negronis, so by the time the moment arrived for a postprandial coffee, I was a Pleasantly Mellow Fellow.
SWMBO and the Mistress were seated facing the interior of the restaurant while I looked toward the window facing Bull Street, so I did not see the group that came in just as our coffee was being served. But SWMBO did. It was a gentleman and three ladies, and her first thought was that the gentleman looked eerily...familiar.
“Isn’t that Rob Smith’s brother over there?” she asked me.
I took a look. And it was as if I were seeing a ghost, for Rob and his brother Dave bore more than just a passing resemblance to one another. Sure as taxes, it had to be Dave. Had to be.
And it was. He was there with wife Pam and two friends. I went over to say hello, thinking to myself how bizarre it was that he should show up at this same restaurant (it was his first visit there) on this of all days - exactly one year since I had met him under much sadder circumstances.
[OK, I know Dave lives in Savannah. It isn’t as if we were having dinner in Minneapolis and he waltzed in. But still...]
Ahh, this strange old cosmos. It’s always finding new tricks to play on us, isn’t it?
Technorati tags: Acidman
It was only two days ago that I was listening to a 1979 recording of the Fabulous Smith Brothers - Rob and Dave - playing “Fish and Whistle.” Those boys made beautiful music. Last year I had been fortunate enough to hear them both: Rob at the Austin meet, and Dave (a mere month later, alas) at Rob’s funeral. My only regret was that I never got to hear them play together.
This evening, She Who Must Be Obeyed and I took the Mistress out to dinner at a new place just south of Forsyth Park, Local 11-Ten, arriving there as dark clouds gathered in the sky to the north and lightning flashed threateningly. We settled into our seats and proceeded to enjoy a superb meal. The Mistress and I each ordered the hanger steak, which Local 11-Ten serves with a silky-smooth Yukon Gold potato purée and a bunch of roasted scallions, set off by a glossy demi-glâce. I washed mine down with a couple of Negronis, so by the time the moment arrived for a postprandial coffee, I was a Pleasantly Mellow Fellow.
SWMBO and the Mistress were seated facing the interior of the restaurant while I looked toward the window facing Bull Street, so I did not see the group that came in just as our coffee was being served. But SWMBO did. It was a gentleman and three ladies, and her first thought was that the gentleman looked eerily...familiar.
“Isn’t that Rob Smith’s brother over there?” she asked me.
I took a look. And it was as if I were seeing a ghost, for Rob and his brother Dave bore more than just a passing resemblance to one another. Sure as taxes, it had to be Dave. Had to be.
And it was. He was there with wife Pam and two friends. I went over to say hello, thinking to myself how bizarre it was that he should show up at this same restaurant (it was his first visit there) on this of all days - exactly one year since I had met him under much sadder circumstances.
[OK, I know Dave lives in Savannah. It isn’t as if we were having dinner in Minneapolis and he waltzed in. But still...]
Ahh, this strange old cosmos. It’s always finding new tricks to play on us, isn’t it?
Technorati tags: Acidman
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