bigbonton

There's no folded "reserved" card on the table,
but who would risk sitting down at this bench when someone - likely sticking out their elbows and not averse to confrontation - has made a territorial statement under the endorsement of the brand of the night?

This image was taken in July prior to a suds-soaked peel & eat shrimp feast.
Looking around that crowd it was clear how the eatery could make money on some of the dainty diners, but on others, there’s no way they’re making money, some people are really putting away the camaróns.
Oh, wait. The PBR sign reminds me how an all-you-can-eat shrimp place stays ahead - sell longnecks in iced buckets.

It’s all a gluttony fest. More is better, God Bless America.
If one is good, then two must be twice as good, and so twenty are twenty times better than one.
Defy the Economic Law of Diminishing Returns!

A big hat embiggens any wearer.
If you got the chutzpa to begin with . . .

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The Fabulous Fox Theater
Atlanta, Georgia

There's an exciting sight each night at the Fabulous Fox!

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Phew! Even the paint is melting.

I promise that I'll be good if it'll just cool off,
at least for tonight.

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Into boiling water add in the following order:
Several spices, link sausages, round potatoes (optional), corn on the cob, then bags and bags of shrimp by the pound. Allow to return to boil between each added ingredient. Do not over cook.

Eaten with your hands, it has a casual standing and eating while chatting vibe.

Sometimes an error in judgment causes a (too) formal affair to mistakenly serve Frogmore stew. It’s messy and so is best consumed in a bathing suit where there is available water to jump into.

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Today is the 14th of July, Bastille Day.
Time to grab a summer sweetheart with which to Storm the Bastille.

Bastille Day is a French national holiday called "Fête Nationale" ("National Holiday") in official parlance, or more commonly "quatorze juillet" ("14th of July").

Many dancing parties with fireworks are organized (“bals du 14 juillet”) and it is customary that firefighters organize them (“bals des pompiers”).

Those celebrations begin during the long evening sunset on the summer night of July 13th and last through the end of July 14th, or officially until 12:01 AM July 15th.

The two long summer evenings play an integral part in the celebration. Multiple nap-times spent privately with your summer sweetheart are considered as de rigueur as attending the public outdoor celebrations and various dances.

Think about it.

Wine, cheese, bread,
a haystack, hot tub, or trail summit,
the sun goes down, the moon comes up,
dancing and enjoying a hot summer night through 'til the sunrise.
The night, the day, then the night again.
This is a time of Champions!

Thanks wikipedia!

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First we ate an afternoon picnic, presented on a traditional red checked tablecloth.

The good stuff we feasted on included watermelon and corn straight from the garden and shrimp right out of the cast net.

After sundown we shot a few of our fireworks.
Later we watched the big boys shooting their big toys.

Then around midnight we burned anything flammable that was not nailed down.
This picnic table, for example . . . .

It’s so much fun to not have to tolerate adults being around,
wagging their scolding finger and saying, “You can’t do that, you’ll get hurt!” and other such stale maturity.
God Bless Freedom from Responsibility!
Fine, & You?

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No hotel/motel Lazy River here, that’s kid stuff. No kids here. They pee in the pool.
The appeal of this pool (other than the obvious fun in the sun) is the Cooling Cave, see the mist in the photo, just left of center?

The Cooling Cave doubles as a shady refuge by day and a hot tub by night.
Swinging singles take advantage of the cool cave to relish their life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness, as well as expand definitions of what that pursuit actually means. Some spelunk into the cave of the unknown in that happy pursuit.

Where is everybody? Likely between the sheets, it’s early for a holiday, just 7AM.
Hearing the call of duty, this holiday blog post got an early check-off from the leisurely July 4th chore list.
Next to-do: catch the AM ocean breeze with some Frisbee action, soak in the salty Atlantic, leisurely bike ride for chow, and find someone to chat with, all while accessorized with the girl-watchers best friend: wrap-around sunglasses, aka: gawker goggles, peep sheath, and wandering-eye alibi protection.

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Gather thy web content as thou art able,
for one never knows when uncertainties of life or love may crash down on your head. Not that the lack of a clear and certain path has ever hindered a bonnie-tonnie rambling walkabout.
Duh!
Clearly seeing your entire path and final destination renders the daily process of life moot. Wouldn’t it be boring, anyway, starting out with all the answers? Suit yourself, but do you feel required to really -really- see the future? Then simply have your tombstone made and gaze upon it. Add your tax returns to the viewfinder and there it is – your two certainties in this life. Death & taxes.
How's that suit ya?
Still lacking something? Salty? Sugary?
For a firm footing in the future, find faith.

This roadside peanut stand isn’t open right now,
they shut to walk down the way to attend a gospel music singing.
Instead of grabbing a brown bagged snack for the road, we joined the gathering and got a dose of:
"On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand."

Along GA Hwy 41, aka “the old two lane”,
“I was born in the back seat of a Greyhound bus
Rolling down highway forty-one“.

Likely the new parents in the song asked the bus driver to stop here (above)
so they could secure a sugar-tit or two for their newborn rambler.
Yes, I said sugar-tit. <- click to learn how we’re still Rated G.
Oh, it’s not easy being clean.

Some people need conflict to keep them charged. Others require a clear and certain set of instructions they can obediently adhere to. Other people can enjoy the passing of time and gather up a few handfuls of salty boiled peanuts and sugary pecan candies along the way.

click “continue reading” for full lyrics of
"Ramblin' Man" by the Allman Brothers Band.
PS: Eat A Peach!

Continue reading "highway forty-one revisited" »

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