A quick hop to the Gator Bowl for New Year's

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Does Ann know how cold that water is?

You may be wondering why I, a good SEC fan, am traveling to the Gator Bowl to see Nebraska play Clemson. A fair question, and one that I hope to make clear at some point; but for now, we’re in Jacksonville, Florida and we need a late night liquor store. I know, “who doesn’t?” but on this occasion it’s proving a little more difficult than it ought to be. Finding a late night liquor store should be easy anywhere in the Christian world, just look for the part of town with the discount tobacco, lottery tickets, massage parlors, bail bonds, and pawn shops specializing in jewelry. People traveling in the vicinity of Southside Blvd and Butler, however, will have to get their cellblock-ready body art elsewhere because it’s all “Linen’s ’n Things“(‘n things I don‘t need), Pier One (I have enough wicker, thank you), or Old Navy (in which navy do they wear pink track suits?) . With every U-turn there’s a rattle against the back window, so the soundtrack is something like this:
“Wait there’s a …”
Whoosh, screech, rattle
“Oh, sorry, it’s a legitimate massage parlor.”
Whoosh, screech, rattle rattle.
Brian, I am beginning to see, is not a man easily deterred once he‘s gotten an idea into his head. At 11:00 PM Eastern Standard , he’s gotten two such ideas, and they both require a liquor store.

Idea One is a Brazilian liquor made from sugarcane called “Cachaca” (pronounced “hell if I know, dude, it’s Portuguese“). You mix it with sugar and lime juice and what you get is a great reason to stay put by the pool (that’s by the pool, not in the pool, Ann; it may be Florida but it’s still the end of December). I’m told it’s quite common in Brazil, but nowhere else.

Idea Two is an evil substance called Absinth, aka Wormwood, or simply “The Green Fairy.” It is manufactured, I can only assume, by planting some kind of pestilential shrub over the body of a dead human being (either a murdered one or one that committed a murder, tastes differ on this point) and then soaking the leaves in a vat with bog slime until a putrid green froth forms at the top. Skim the froth and filter it through a carburetor, serve in a highball with a bat claw as garnish (some froofy types toss in a toothpick of newt eyes, but I think that’s just disgusting).

Well, maybe that’s not the precise recipe but it certainly has that affect on the palette, not to mention the back of the head six hours later. The Green Fairy carries a cudgel and she has an uncommonly dangerous forehand. This hellish substance used to be illegal in most European countries and probably still should be. In the US, opinions vary depending on the agency having jurisdiction. Florida currently says it’s okay but US Customs says no. So do the states of Georgia and Alabama. This makes you wonder how it gets to Florida since I don‘t think they make it there, but then there are an awful lot of things not legal for import into Florida that are nevertheless present in great abundance (various substances, certain nationalities, and quarterbacks that fall apart in the playoffs). So if you happen to be traveling in the neighborhood and wish to do yourself great harm, by all means try the absinth (or bet on the Dolphins in January). The trend towards decriminalizing Wormwood is, unfortunately, catching on so maybe one day Ye Olde Absinth House in the French Quarter of New Orleans will be able to serve absinth again.

Whoosh, screech, rattle rattle.

I forgot to mention Brian’s Idea Three, which began back in Nashville and is currently rattling against the back window. First however, we have to find a liquor store. It’s getting late, but we have a plan.

Now, before all of you funny people remind me that Custer had a plan, I want to point out that ours did not involve charging directly at the combined forces of the Lakota and Cheyenne tribes in the bottom of a valley. This is Florida so there isn‘t a valley or so much as a noticeable depression for two hundred miles if you don’t count the housing market. Besides that, the combined forces of the Seminole Tribe can’t be 100 braves and they’re all waiting in line for lottery tickets by the discount liquor store we can’t seem to find.

No, our plan is to follow this guy who’s pushing a bicycle with all of his belongings stacked on top. If he doesn’t stop at a late night liquor store I don’t know my Floridians. He just came out of Kangaroo Mart (a note about Kangaroo Mart: most of Florida has now changed over to marsupial-based convenience stores and I’m not sure why given the innate superiority of the placental mammals to adapt to most environments).
“There he is!”
Whoosh, screech, rattle rattle.

Come to think of it, I’m getting ahead of myself. This quick hop down to Florida actually begins in Nashville right before New Year (see entry from 29Dec08). A day later I’m getting into a car with Ann to meet her brother Brain down in Huntsville. From there it is +/- nine hours to Jacksonville by way of Atlanta with that rattling noise in the back. You will notice I said “to meet.” I’m going “to meet” her brother and then get into a car for nine hours. “Meet” as in “an initial encounter or introduction,” as in “for the first time,” as in “dude, this could go badly.” I’d already met her father Jim - a couple of days before. He wanted cold Budweiser and live honkytonk music. We have both of those things in Nashville and often in the same places. Phone ahead and we might be able to arrange to have guitars and Cadillac’s ready, too. It’s noon? So what, somebody’s playing the mid-day shift at Legend’s Corner and that someone’s probably pretty good. Jim (age 70 or thereabouts) was with us drink-for-drink from Legend’s, to Wheel, through Paradise Park, into The Stage, up 2nd to the Beer Sellar,…in other words, Jim and I got on just fine.

It’s a daunting prospect, taking a long car ride with three people who are family and you are not. Especially when one of them is the older brother of the girl you just started seeing and he is from Huntsville, Alabama. Ann is Jim’s youngest daughter. His little girl. No cause for anxiety, is there? One of these days I’ll do an entry recounting the story of meeting an inebriated Mexican with a broken tequila bottle and a mind to blame someone down a blind alley in Saltillo. I figure I can handle this, but then Custer figured he could handle the Lakotas.

Jim’s not from Huntsville. He’s from Duncan, Nebraska, which explains why I’m headed to the Gator Bowl in a red sweatshirt to see the Cornhuskers play the Tigers. Brian was determined to play golf while we were in Florida. Now, if this is a family joke to see if I’ll haul a set of clubs around in winter, I figure I can let them have a laugh at my expense. So I put on my backpack and slung my clubs (such as they are) over my shoulder and headed down Printer’s Alley to Church Street to meet Ann. As it will turn out, I won’t get laughed at by the family in Huntsville, but the panhandlers at the homeless hotspot known as St. Cloud Corner heehawed nonstop until it occurred to one of them that it’s best not to hassle a guy with a bag full of irons. No, no such laughter was waiting for me in Huntsville (at least not for the golf clubs). I just hoisted them into Brian’s car where they sat with his for the next few days, rattling against the back window.

For my next entry? A bit about the Gator Bowl, She-crab Soup, a quick look at Huntsville, and I’ll finally answer that question:
“Does Ann know how cold that water is?”
“She does now.”

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Photos

Legend's Corner, Nashville, Noon
Somebody's always playing at Legend's Corner, and that someone's usually pretty good.

Ann at Jax Beach
If you think that water's cold, wait 'till you try the pool.

Husker Fan, Early Signs
College football fanhood begins early....

Husker Fan, Advanced Stage
if left unchecked, once secondary symptoms are apparent....

Husker Fan, Terminal Stage
The soft foam cornhusk hardens into a dense carapace enveloping the head. Note the look of listlessness from waiting until the second half for the offense to show up.

Comments

[Ann]

A correction
It was midnight Eastern and all the stores were closed :-)