You should be dancing....

I come to you from beautiful Savannah, GA. After the 500 mile drive today, I personally didn't think the rest of my evening would include anything more exciting than a trip to the local gas station to pick up beef jerky for dinner and a lot of Barney Miller online. Oh, foolish mortal that I am, I underestimated my castmates' determination to party in Savannah. They wanted to go into the city for dinner, and I, being a good tour buddy (and realizing I would more than likely be required to be designated driver) decided to go with them. We all (save for Bob, who went out to dinner with his mom) piled into the van and headed off to a place that Flo found online. It turned out that the Bar Bar (yes, that's really the name of the place) didn't serve anything approaching solid food, but it had a lovely selection of whiskey. That pretty much decided it for us, and we stayed to imbibe and play some free games of pool (I wiped the floor with Levitt, then got beat like a redheaded stepchild by some random guy.) Contrary to all appearances, I really don't know what the hell I'm doing when I play pool. It comes from not really paying attention in geometry and blowing off physics altogether. So let that be a lesson to you, kids. Study your practical sciences and angular mathematics, and you can avoid the humiliation of being kicked around a billiard table in Savannah, GA. I am here to teach. I was also accosted at the bar (the actual bar within the bar named Bar, not the bar named Bar within which WAS a bar) by a woman named (are you ready for this?) Sunday, who apparently liked the look of the leather jacket I was wearing and asked if I rode a motorcycle. I answered no, and attempted to extricate myself from the conversation because there's nothing more uncomfortable than being hit on by a woman you could very easily call "mom", especially one who insists on introducing you to the two guys she's hanging with (her bodyguards) one of whom is so drunk the only words I could make out were "I worry about chew." I informed him that Sunday was the last person in the bar to worry about, and headed off to find the rest of the gang at the pool tables. Let THAT be a lesson to you, gentle readers. Don't talk to strangers. Especially ones named after days of the week. Nothing good can come of it. 

Once I lost control of the table, we discovered that the Bar Bar (I just love typing that) had a back room, in which dancing was taking place. Well, the ladies immediately made a beeline there, and since it has been many a year since I have busted anything close to a move, I decided to head over there with them and see what was shaking. I won't go ito too much detail, because there really isn't that much detail to go into, but suffice it to say, I decide to bust every move i could find. I mean what the hell? It's not like the cast doesn't already know I'm nuts, and it's not like I was ever going to see any of the people in that bar ever again. (Especially after I get the restraining order against Sunday. Which should only be a problem during football season) So I let loose, as the kids say. I learned a new line dance so easy that even I was able to learn it, and I actually shit down the dance floor during "Don't Stop til You Get Enough". You haven't seen anything until you've seen this Irish boy do Michael Jackson's moves. I kid you not, gentle readers, the crowd moved back, formed a circle and watched me go, with varying levels of disbelief, entertainment and outright fear. I don't give a shit as long as there's an audience. If you doubt me, ask the cast. Believe me, Savannah, GA got served, Ichabod-style. All in all, it was a fun evening with much drinking (I had one bourbon as I was, surprise surprise, the DD) much grinding (Flo is a magnet for strange and borderline creepy guys) and revelations (Apparently Alice and Schneider are a bit of a couple, which makes me happy because it allows me to imagine the crossover episodes that might have been of One Day at a Time and Alice) Once we remembered that dinner had been the plan, we made our way out of the Bar Bar and to a nearby pizza place, where we demolished a large pizza and learned of Ted's love of anchovies. Yes, he's the guy.

We have another 500 mile drive tomorrow, and I'm sure we'll be rueing having to be up in the morning, but tonight was a good thing for the tour, since we won't have a day off where we neither perform nor drive until Wednesday. Steam was blown off, and silliness ensued. That is quite possibly the most important part of touring. The nice thing is my silliness can ensue for far less money since I'm already silly even before one adds alcohol. That's me--efficiency is the name of MY game. And thankfully (at least when they're drunk) people are able to handle being kidded about the things that are kind of annoying, like Levitt's tendency to just yell at Ted whenever he opens his mouth. When she's had some drinks, I can say pretty much anything about it, and she finds it funny. I'm very happy that this group is the kind who can give and take jokes with each other. If you can't laugh on tour, then it's gonna be REALLY long. I don't think it's really hit me all that much that I'm not going home until June. I really would like to be back. I enjoy touring, and this group is great, but it's been a long time, and I do miss my friends and my wife. Thankfully, she's flying down to Fairfax in a couple of weeks to celebrate our anniversary, so that's something I am very much looking forward to. I am very lucky that she is so understanding about the way this life works, and can handle the fact I'll have spent, by the time this tour is over, about two weeks at home in a year's time. But hey, at least I'm not making a mess at home :-)

Anywho, I need to hit the hay, since I drive the truck tomorrow. Naples, here we come! And considering I did the splits tonight for the first time in a about five years, I'm gonna be FEELING it tomorrow morning. I hope you appreciate what i go through for you, Savannah, I really do....