putting the j in jjosh

The weather in Savannah was gorgeous for the three days we were there. Upper 70’s, nice breeze, low humidity, sunny skies. We had lucked into some kind of early week special at our B&B (the meta-named "Bed & Breakfast Inn") that resulted in our getting a swanky room with a balcony. We’d go down and have breakfast, then come back up and start the morning slowly on the balcony — reading, enjoying an early morning beer, or just sitting in a rocking chair with Grits, the B&B cat. Then we’d stumble into Savannah and walk around like we were in a dream.

Savannah lent itself to this feeling because it was full of weird, old houses and friendly, eccentric people. Savannah is home to the house that Disney based the Haunted Mansion on, is full of churches and beautiful squares that slow down traffic, and features giant old trees that fairly drip with Spanish Moss. 

One afternoon as we were coming out of Colonial Cemetery, we saw a strange vehicle driving slowly down the street. It looked to be a modified Hearse, with people’s heads sticking up out of it and a guy in front speaking through a microphone like one of the passionate crazies right out of Slacker. There was a phone number on the back; we called and booked the midnight tour the following night.

We did a lot of fun things in Savannah, but the Hearse tour is definitely up there as far as originality. It was in a real, modified, formerly working Hearse. We rode where the bodies had been.

Our driver was a large, red-headed, long-haired, death-metal-t-shirt wearing guy named Nate. Or, as one girl called out as we drove by, "BIGG Nate!!!!" And Nate gave us a chilling tour of a damn spooky city. Also notable for driving us into the ghetto to see, as Nate put it, "the ghosts of burned down crack houses."

Walking home around 12:30, we accidentally walked near a house that had featured in one of Nate’s more memorable tales. It was chilling, and we picked up the pace. Then, as we got closer to our B&B, we came across one of the squares that had a particularly scary story about a ghost of child that supposedly haunted it.

Maxine wouldn’t let us go anywhere near the square, and we were glad to get back to our room, our beer, and Grits.

Did I ever tell you about the best meal I ever had?

I’m reminded of this meal because I came across this article…

Matt D and I were heading off to Chicago for TLC to do a ridiculously expensive shoot with a production company there. Everything was pretty well set as far as the shoot, hotel, etc., but I wanted to try and find somewhere great to go eat. TLC would give us a per diem for food, and on shoot days the set would be catered, so breakfast and lunch would be provided for and you could blow the whole per diem on dinner. Both Matt and I would have $100, so we would start with $200 between us. Then if we each put up $60-$70 we’d be on our way to an exemplary meal.

I asked my friend Zanna, who is definitely a gourmand (reads cookbooks for fun, stays up to date on the cool places to eat in major cities) if she could recommend somewhere in Chicago. She says Charlie Trotter’s. It’s wednesday, and the shoot is Friday, so the likelihood of getting a reservation is slim, but I decide to call anyway and see if there were any cancellations. For some reason I feel like I might have better luck if I call and ask in this super deep bass voice that annunciates…every…word…like…this… Turns out they’ve had a cancellation and we get a table for two.

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This morning it seems all of Brooklyn was feeling the powerful effects of the white powder…

Well, yesterday I drove 3 hours to Wilmington, DE and for most of the drive (from Brooklyn all the way down the NJ turnpike) I was behind a little red sportscar that had this great sticker on it saying "Pick Up One Piece of Litter A Day". I like that a lot…I’m gonna give it a shot. And then today I came across this, from the late 70’s:

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