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AJC.com > Metro > View from the cop > Archives > 2007 > July > 31
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
A tube socks ‘n’ air guitar vacation
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Every few weeks one needs a week at the beach—and not the drink, or the drink alone, but the R and R of doing nothing.
Such was the case last Thursday through the weekend for Detective Sandy and me. We made our Panama City trip, the same one we’ve made for years. Although the big high-rise condos are replacing the old sand-worn motels on the beach, the redneck factor is still there, evident by last call at Spinnakers and Club La Vela. The trail of drunk “Whoooeeeeee’s” stretch for a quarter mile.
The old Treasure Island Motel, located around the curve on Thomas Drive, is gone, replaced by the Treasure Island mega high-rise condo with weird orange paint. Fortunately Schooners, the last local beach bar, was still there and although more refined than it used to be, they still fire the cannon at sunset, signaling the beginning of the night’s entertainment, including the redneck air-guitar improv and later on, the hit-the-guy-on-the-scooter contest.
West of Panama City there are very cool places to go. We drove Hwy 98 a few miles out and found Rosemary Beach. If you go there, take your bikes. It’s perfect for riding and spending money buying clothes with “Rosemary Beach” embroidered on them. It was established way back in 1995 by “New Urbanism folks” who survived the dot-com crashes with a few million to spare.
Rosemary Beach is very scenic with an old town centralized for maximum spending. As you drive through Rosemary Beach and exit on the western end of it, look left and you’ll see the weirdest looking house. It’s shaped like a new version of Jules Verne’s submarine, only 10 times bigger. My friend who lives in the area said it’s owned by the Hilton family. Construction has been going on for a couple of years. Unfortunately, you can only view it from afar.
We found no rednecks in Rosemary Beach so I took off my old dirty Lynyrd Skynyrd ball cap and replaced it with my cleaner Lynyrd Skynyrd ball cap and walked into what appeared to be a very nice eating establishment called the Onano Neighborhood Café. I was prepared to refine my appearance, at least as long as it took to eat. I neatly tucked my wife-beater in my Wal-Mart gym shorts and pulled my tube socks up allowing full view of my fairly new Corona flip-flops, and we strolled in.
The matridee approached and asked if we had reservations. I replied “No, we’re fully committed for this lunch” which, I thought was funny as hell but judging from the look I received, our matridee was a bit humor-challenged. Either that, or he noticed that the stripes on my tube socks were of two different colors.
We would not dine in Rosemary Beach that day but we continued riding bikes until we loaded up and headed west towards Sandestin.
As you enter Sandestin, on the right is the Grand Boulevard Mall area. We were on the way to visit our friends and running a bit early so we pulled in. People in Rosemary Beach probably shop at Grand Boulevard because I saw no rednecks. I was forced to go into local Publix, buy a “Destin” hat with an embroidered fish skeleton smoking a cigar, obviously meaning that people here were cool. I took off the wife beater and replaced it with a gray t-shirt with blue and orange designs of an old Woodie car, rigged out with a surf board on top and the words “Surf Destin” on the bottom. For effect, I removed the tube socks and went commando with the flip flops. Refusing to conform completely, I left the shirt tail out. That was the only occasion during the weekend that I dressed up.
It was a good long weekend but now it’s Monday and I’ve got a ton of phone messages. More on that later.
