Key Issues

Is This For Real?

I didn't offer up a toast at Spanky's on River Street in Savannah, cuz that's all I could think of to say. Rather, I nodded, smiled, and raised a class of iced water with lemon as Eric and Elisson waxed eloquent, and Yabu and Velociman threw in the appropriate expletives.

Good ol' Georgia in the background recanting God knows what, while sweet Samantha and all too clever Stacey stared in amazement at those crazy people who once entertained the old man.

I think they liked us.

Anyway, I was doubtful that the funeral could in any way feel right. How could it? Not if it was traditional. And uh, pews, aisle, priest, flowers... Looked pretty traditional to me.

Scripture was read. But then he stopped. And I was so wrong. He admitted that he wasn't sure what Rob would want, but he felt certain that opening the floor to Rob's oldest friends would be the right thing to do.

And so, an old football/camping buddy stood and started with, "well, I can guarantee you that he wouldn't want you to stand up there and read Scripture..."

Heh. Yeah, I believe that was when I heard Denny's soft laughter in the background, and I knew I was in the right place. That was Rob Smith's funeral after all. As David informed me after, turns out the priest was an old buddy of Rob's, going back to before seminary school. A very appropriate fit.

And even as I attempted to have a tear-filled moment, upon viewing the collage of Acidhead pictures and the box in which he lay, the ever stoic and big-brotherly Zonkman was there to pick up my pieces, and so...I ushered myself to the foyer so as to catch an eyeful of some of the more infamous stars of Gut Rumbles.

After, we gathered with Rob's family, who were most welcoming. A spread of fine southern cuisine was available that would have fed half of Savannah. Unfortunately, my nerves were a mess, and wuzn't nuttin gonna stay down. So I passed. And Miss Georgia excoriated me after, explaining that at Rob's Mama's house it was rude not to eat!! Hadn't I learned anything from reading Rob's blog?!

Well dayum. I was waiting for the Immodium to start working, 'kay?! Yes, Georgia loves me, and called me today to say as much, so that was a bit of a side-note.

Next stop: Spanky's. The Exchange was plan A, but it had caught fire and was closed for renovations. Georgia knew this ahead of time, of course, but forgot to tell us. But thanks to every blogger having every other blogger in their cell phones, we got it together.

And it was good.

I met a few bloggers for the first time, felt the comfort of the old gang, and of course, discovered all over again, that these bloggas know how to come together, to love and support and drink their weight in likka, and in very rare occasions even, to put on a suit and a tie and act all kinda civilized. And ya know what? The scruffy little boogers clean up quite nicely. (Well, of course I have pics.)

That's it. That's all I have to say about that. Well, one more observation. I saw in our midst a few skeptics. I believe they will be selling tees by month end reading: FUCK ELVIS. ACIDMAN LIVES.