June 09, 2003

random blog-surfing

I like the name of this guy's site and I DEFINITELY like his opinion of mine. "This site fucking rules." I wouldn't go that far myself, but I willingly bask in the adoration.

The velicitotrajectoryblogger grew up in my neck of the woods and married a girl who lived just a few doors down from me, back when she had cooties instead of titties. He does this nostalgia thing about once a week and really rings my bell with it. He mentioned "Chico's Monkey Farm" the other day. Whatta classic.

I-95 was the death of Chico's Monkey Farm, a big, pink zoo on the side of US 17 when that was the only way to get to Florida back in those primitive days when I was a child. You saw the signs as soon as you left Chatham County: Chico's Monkey Farm...50 miles ahead!, and more signs came about every 1/4 mile after that. "See the monkeys!" "Pet the Alligators!" "Fresh Boiled Peanuts!" "Souvenirs!" "Talking Parrots!" "Pecan Logs!" "CHICO'S! 35 Miles on the Left!"

I have to ask, Kim... do you remember the Bamboo Ranch, "Buddy Livingston and the Versitones" (featuring Billy Joe Royal) and the Black Lace Lounge at Tybee?

How about "Hard-Hearted Hannah's," the ritzy strip bar on Bay street, "Dr. Feelgood's," the first openly gay bar in that conservative town, or "Jim Collins'" and "Pinkie Masters''?

Hannah's closed, Dr. Feelgood's burned down (probably arson) and Jim Collins died about six years ago. It's still open as a beer and wine bar now, and local musicians play for nothing but tips in there every night just to keep the place open. It still has the same lop-sided pool table that was there 20 years ago, where you had better learn the breaks before you gamble on it.

Pinkie has BEEN dead for YEARS but that ratty, classic bar is still doing business and you can still get hard liquor in there. It's right across Drayton Street from the De Soto Hilton Hotel and I like it because you can find dockworkers, hookers, bikers, high-octane lawyers, local politicians and Congressmen all bellied up to the bar at the same time. Sit in there long enough and you'll see everybody you ever knew and half the people you ever read about in Georgia.

You can't find many bars like that anymore. Plus, the juke box remains the best I ever saw. If you want selections from George Jones to Steppenwolf, go to Pinkie's.

Those places are dying now, and it's a crying shame.