Sunday Evening Shenanigans

It’s St. Patrick’s Day eve, and as Robert and I have done the last five or six years, we hightail it out of Dodge (well, Savannah).

“Why,” you may be asking. “Doesn’t Savannah have one of the nation’s largest and most celebrated St. Patrick’s Day bashes/parades?”

Yes, it does. And we have enjoyed them in the past.

But here comes the rub. I moved to Savannah back in 2009, as I was semi-retiring from Georgia Southern University (about an hour north of SAV). I have lived in two Savannah locations , and (incredibly) BOTH were directly on the parade route, which initially sounded great. And I suppose initially it was.

But as the years went by, I began to see aspects of the parade’s insanity. Don’t get me wrong, St. Patrick’s Day celebrations can be so much fun and meaningful: the Greening of the Fountains, the Celtic Cross Ceremony in Emmet Park, the Jasper Green Ceremony in Madison Square, etc.

Savannah’s population is around 150.000, and the parade usually draws at least that many more visitors. And living on the parade route, we have witnessed disappointing human behavior outside our door. Our potted plants being trampled, thrown and broken on the pavement, even urinated upon. (TMI?). Partiers loudly camping outside our door all night the night before the parade.

So anyway, we drove an hour or so south of us to St. Simons Island to a quaint little retro motel (not hotel). Queen’s Court Inn: