Tales of Savannah, Part III. "Have I got one for you!"

Continuing in the tradition of telling stories of my new home, I have a rather interesting tale of danger, mystery, intoxication and my new favorite bar.
We find our hero (that would be me) working slavishly away at his color theory project. He has been at it for at least two weeks working a minimum of three hours at a time. His brow is quite furrowed, as he looks at his work and suddenly feels the urge to vomit. Suddenly the phone rings! Who could it be? Kelsey, our hero's new friend. It seems Kelsey and a few others are heading out for some fun times and wants to know if the Edge wants to go. Looking at his watch and feeling utterly frustrated with mixing colors and painting, the Edge immediately responds, I will see you in a bit.
Arriving at Kelsey's apartment, the Edge is met by Kelsey, his cousin and her man-mate, and Adam, another graduate student at the fine instiution at SCAD. Aftering taking part in some pregaming with "The Family Guy", our party of companions heads out for the night.
Walking to a place known as River St. they stumble upon a place called Kevin Barry's. Seeing a shamrock on the door, the Edge immediately makes the decision to go in. The pub has several rooms and the party decides they will go upstairs. As if finding and Irish bar wasn't enough, the enter a room called The Heroes hall which is dedicated to police/fire/and the military. With a special emphasis on SPECIAL FORCES. The Edge was most please with his new surroundings. After order a few drinks, talking to a few locals, we find it is time to move on and go bar hoping. What follows next is of no consequence, just a bunch of shit hole bars.
At around 3 am, our party has disbanded leaving our hero with Kelsey and Adam in Kelsey's apartment. Feeling rather sober the Edge decides to call it a night and leaves for his car. As he approaches the Edgemobile, which is parked not more than 60 feet away from the apartment, immediately The Edge's Edge-sense goes off and he knows something foul is afoot. It is then that he notices the rather large smashed area of his windshield. Springing forth ready to dispense out justice upon his car's attacker, the Edge surmizes that the crooks being of the cowardly nature have fled the seen. Two tired and track them down, the Edge drives back to his HQ and goes to sleep.
The next moring we find the Edge cleaning out the broken glass from inside his car. While vaccuming the Edge's keen eyesight spots something that does not belong. Bending down her finds a little copper ball, leaning closer for further inspection the Edge believes he has found a bullet. Immediately he takes tweezers and bags the evidence. After cleaning up the glass he takes the "bullet" to the local authorities, waiting to use their crime lab.
Instead a rather friendly officer confirms that it is infact a bullet (the Edge has never shot a gun) and after inspecting the windshield, tells the Edge that the culprit must have shot straight up and that the bullet enterted the windshield on its way down breaking the glass and landing in the backseat. With a cocked eyebrow, the Edge concurs secrety suspecting that this officer is full of shit. Upon talking with the officer some more it is revealed that, "Everyone in Savannah has a gun. On New Years at midnight this place sounded like Bagdhad with everyone shooting into the sky." The Edge is not amused at this point. Not only does he have a broken windshield from a bullet, but he apparently is the only one unarmed in this lawless city! A line has been crossed and a decision has been made. The Edge must now work outside the bounds of the law to dispense justice. The Edge is going vigillante. The only comforting thought is that no one was in the Edgemobile during the point of impact. If someone was it would be very likely that either the Edge or a passenger would have been seriously maimed, if not killed. Stay tuned for our next episode.

Tales of Savannah Part II

It is about 8:50 pm and I am still at school. Just to give you an idea of what life is like here, there are no Friday classes at SCAD. You have three classes a quarter and they all meet from Monday to Thursday. Doesn't sound to bad right? Well my second week here is ending, and there hasn't been a day since school started that I have spent any less than 6 hours on campus. That includes the weekends! So here is Friday night, I should be getting my drink on and looking for honeys but instead I am here working on my color theory project. I have started this thing over twice. It is due Tuesday and overall I have easily worked over 20 hours on this fucking thing. I am no where near done. I could try and explain to you what I have to do...but I am gonna go out on a limb and say you wouldn't understand. So I am taking a little break to post on the bloggy blog. I am thinking that this is going to be the best way to keep in touch with me for now, or at least see what I am up too. I have been so damned busy I haven't had a chance to call anyone or do anything else. So consider this website a mass email to all you out there in the real world.
Savannah is increasingly an interesting place. First off, it smells here. I never thought I would say this but it smells worse than Statin Island (which I think I just spelled wrong). Shaolin smells like fucking sweet roses compare to this place. My new friend Kelsey has described the odor as really bad sourkraut. Not sure if that is acurate but it is really awful. It seems that for all of Georgia and South Carolina's beauty and preservation of nature they have a really shitty emissions rating (Thank you Emmy Lou). No doubt this odor is directly related. From what I gather, besides the equally nasty edition of low tide, there are several mills and industrial areas in Savannah down by the water. Two of which I blame are the paper mill and the coal power plant. When you add this obnoxious odors together on top of a recently discovered landfill plus low tide, you get something that is very acidic and can taste it in the back of your throat. It really makes me want to gag. However, it is better than coffee when it comes to waking you up in the morning.
Another funny thing I have noticed about Savannah is the crazy people. I already commented on the homeless folks and I am not sure the crazy people are a mutually exclusive group, but they are entertaining. I have seen and quickly walked by several older women who are talking to themselves. This in and of itself is not a big deal. What is a big deal is that they are actually screaming at themselves and someone who aparently they can see but no one else, or at least I, cannot. They (the crazy people) are very very upset by they actions of the invisible antagonizer. They are so upset that if you wanted to, you could easily spend a day sitting in one of Savannah's beautiful squares, and watch them for hours yell and cuss and shake their fist in the air. My personal favorite is when the crazy people stare down the invisible entity, and yell "Look at me! Do I look like I am foolin around!" The invisible person must certainly have a death wish, because if you were to look in the eyes of these very angry crazy people, you would certainly die of fright. Medusa has nothing on them.
Now I am not sure if all these people are crazy. Most of them sure, there was one lady that I passed who was screaming at her invisible "friend" and after about 45 minutes when I came back to the same spot, she was still tearing the invisible bastard a new transparent asshole. But I also thing talking to oneself is something that man older women in the black community do. I have seen and spoken to a few older black ladies, who didn't seem crazy but certainly did talk to themselves in a manner of thinking out loud, albeit really loud. So my study of this phenomena will continue. Look for a later post on the oddities of white southern married men.
That aside, my class are all very interesting however work intensive. I haven't really been able to set up my house because my furniture was delivered the night before school started. I don't usually get home till 10ish and usually I just say hi to my mom and then go to sleep. However, last night was the first night I slept in my bed and I have to say it was rather nice.
Oh, and just so all you people out there in TV don't think this is the tropical paradise of Eden (not that you would have meeting all the crazies and smelling the place) IT IS FUCKING COLD TODAY. In a way it reminds me of home, but people around here forget to shut the AC off. It is one of those wet colds too. Similar to Narragansett at night...it could be the middle of summer and if you go out on the beach at night and stick your feet in the dry sand, you are liable to get frost bite. It is that kinda cold. The kind that you underestimate and then it whoops your ass. Anyway I have turned the heat up in this room three or four times and the thermostat still reads 65. Not really cold, but when you combine the 36 degrees outside and the wetness (everything here is wet) you get really fucking cold. But I will stop my whining because this is the first rainy day I have had since I got here. Well I have to get back to my color theory project. Oddly enough since I started taking this class I have noticed colors a lot more. All you LSD fans out there should put the shit down and take one of these class...I can't take a shit now without comparing the hues and values of everything around me. Fucking education...

Put up or Shut up

Two things and this will be a short post. First off, this is my blog and I will write about whatever the hell I want to. I will name names, I will tell it like I see it, and I will lie through my teeth if I want to. If you don't like it, fuck you. This is my webspace. I don't generally take to lying but I am not about to put kid gloves on to spare your feelings. Sometimes I am pissed and rather than shooting a bunch of people I choose to write here. You don't like it, fuck you. I got my first amendment so long as Bush and his Neocon lapdogs do not erase the Constitution. I am sorry if I make you mad, but you have to be an educated reader. It is your responsibility to realize that one entry does not sum up everything about me or how I feel. I come in many shades of gray, you want black and white? Go fuck yourself. If you don't like what I write don't read it. No one gets to edit me or censor me. I promise that I will never indanger you or give out your address...but that is it. So in short, Fuck you this my blog and I will do whatever the fuck I want.

Secondly, all of you regardless of your political bent should check this site out. WWW.OPERATIONAC.COM After reading it, do it. If not....fuck you!

Tales of Savannah

It seems like it has been ages since I did a fresh post. My last post was actually composed in word while staying at a friend's house. I was there because I was waiting for the business end of my parent's vacation house to be completed. Until the bank gave the money to the lawyers involved, I would not be given the keys. So anyway, I am now in. Tons of shit has happened in the few short days I have been here. I have tons of emails I need to respond too. I keep promising to write soon, but I just got hot water in my house so things are moving a little slow. I just found out last night that all my stuff that I packed up and put on a moving truck won't be here for another two weeks. That means no clothes or furniture. I am slighly less than amused.
So here I am in Anderson Hall. I used to live at an Anderson Hall while I was at American U, now it seems my foundation studies courses will all be held at Anderson Hall, which coincidentally is the building furthest from everything and right smack in the ghetto. I walked here the other day and discovered a jewelry store that specializes in making gold teeth the same day. That is just one of the new things I am noticing about the south. Back in DC and Rhode Island, I never saw anyone with dental bling bling except for the occassionally hip hopper on MTV. Down here, everybody has gold teeth, or at least one tooth is gold. I think there is some correlation with status and the amount and quality of dental jewelry. I think tommorrow I will put an order in for me.
I haven't met too many people. I think it is plainly obvious to the undergraduate population that I am older than dirt. Which is fine, I have no interest in dealing with certain aspects of undergraduate life. However, there are some nice looking ladies down here. That being said they are all like 18 and that makes me a pedofile. Moving on...the most interesting person I met was on my first day here at school. Orientation was rather interesting at SCAD. It is divided into two sessions. The morning session from 8 am to 11 am is taking care of ID's, schedules, etc etc. I got there at 7:50 am. Found my way around as any bumbling idiot would do and with in about 45 minutes I was done with everything. That means at 8:45 am I was in the middle of Savannah, GA with no place to go and nothing to do. The afternoon session didn't start till 1 pm. This also happened to be on a Sunday. Which, unlike the North, everything, including the hooker's legs, are closed! Well my tired ass walked up and down the whole God Damned city. Finally I ended up at the school book store where I bought a magazine. I then continued to walk till I came to a rather nice square. Savannah is a city of squares, similar to DC being a city of circles. Take note you urban planners, circles and squares fuck up traffic. Here I am sitting in this nice square, the name of which escapes me, passing time reading a magazine about comics (WHATELSE!?) and a homeless man walks up to me and introduces himself as Charlie.
Charlie it seems, had spent the day out in Hilton Head trying to find a job. A few things struck me as odd. I live between Savannah and Hilton head and it took me about 30 minutes to drive to the city at ludacris speed. How the fuck did Charlie, the homeless guy, with no car get from Savannah, GA to Hilton Head, SC? Driving would have taken 45 minutes to an hour depending on traffic and one's destination. BUT THAT IS DRIVING! To get to SC to GA through Savannah you have to cross a rather large bridge that does not allow pedestrians and I can quarantee he didn't swim his ass across the Savannah River. Anyway, Charlie sits down next to me on the bench and explains that while he tried to get a job out there, he doesn't think he was successful. He tells me he "I am one of the homeless here in Savannah..." and proceeds to explain it has been a really long time since his last meal. I gave him all the change in my pocket and wished him well. Then off he went. What struck me most was "I am one of the homeless in Savannah." It was almost as if they were an exclusive club but more in the vain of "those are my bastard children." Never in any city that I have been to have I ever seen as many homeless. What disturbs me more is that I am unaware of any support services for them. I get the feeling the city tolerates them as a great lion tolerates fleas. Scratches them when they get in his way but for the most part ignores there existence. I think this will require more investigation on my part.
On a more positive note my classes are at the very least interesting. I have Drawing II, Color Theory, and Art History 101. So far I have solidified my place in Drawing II as the kid who has no fucking clue. My professor in Color Theory seems to be a little spark plug who spits out information like a wood chipper. Art History is the one class that I care the least about but so far has been the most structured. My Art History professor seems like a very nice woman but a deep academic. She was definitly picked last in gym class if you catch my meaning.
Everything just seems a blur in the short week or so that I have been here. I have experienced so much and yet I get the feeling it isn't even a drop in the bucket. I promise to start posting more but as it stands right now, I don't have a desk and furthermore only a few rooms in the house actually have lights. Really, it isn't as ghetto as it sounds but it ain't the Plaza either. There will be more to follow...James Bond will Return...
PS...whoever Pancho Vista is, Thanks

unplugged post redux

12/30

Here I am back in Hilton Head, SC. I am writing this in Word because I don’t have internet access. Actually, that is not true, I do have access but it is dial-up and rather than take the chances of losing my entry, I just assume write it here and upload it later.
I am watching Dragonfly with Kevin Costner. I remember when it was released, right around the same time as the Mothman Prophecies. From what I gather it is a movie about death and what happens next. I suppose, well rather I know I am far from qualified to speak of death and those that grieve. But to the grieving I can only imagine that death is viewed as an end. But I often wonder if it is a beginning. I am in no rush to find out to be sure and I certainly don’t possess the essence of faith that the devoutly religious have that affords them the comfort in believing in an afterlife. Certainly, I do hope there is something beyond the grave but I am neither a scholar nor a follower of theology. But it seems to me that death and whatever lies beyond is perhaps just a change. I once read somewhere that magic is just change and thinking back on the life I have lived and the changes that I have experienced, both subtle and drastic, than it would seem to me that death is similar. Obviously there is now way of proving this but if death is just a change of state than perhaps death is just the beginning of more changes. Who knows if there are more changes beyond the absence of a beating heart, a breathing lung? Only time will tell I guess.
Anyway, I am back in SC and there is something truly strange about this place. First off, after the sun goes down the place creeps me out royally. I am not afraid of the dark and God knows I have spent plenty of time in dark places but there is something eerie about this place. Walking outside there is a strange stillness and the only thing I can compare it to is the calculated stillness of a predator before it strikes its prey. This place is unlike anywhere I have ever been. I have traveled all over the world and nothing feels as foreign as the South. I know I have only been here a night but this place is so strange.
I am looking forward to going into Savannah in the next few days for school. That place also has strangeness to it. There is a kind of magic that seemingly keeps it protected and apart from the world around it. It is a beautiful city and I have a very strong feeling that going to school there will present many new adventures. My new home has a sort of melancholy loneliness about it. The fact that I am living in an empty house with no friends of family for miles certainly doesn’t help either. It is really a learning experience to completely uproot yourself and start somewhere completely new. Even though my car is packed full, the value of those possessions really becomes apparent when all you have is an empty house. More than ever I am learning that humans are truly social creatures. The people down here are characters all. The way they speak could alone occupy my attention for hours. This new start down here is promising to be very interesting. I only hope I have the strength to record it all.
Speaking of adventure, if you have to drive from Rhode Island to South Carolina I highly suggest you bring people with you. The drive is long, often times slow, and very lonely. There are many unique roadside attractions that I will surely write about in a later post. However, the one reason I wish I had someone to drive with is so that I could sleep. Being awake for 10 hours a lone in a car gives you a lot of time to think about things but never enough to time to bring those things to closure. If I have one weakness, it is being given time to think …