Savannagain
So I went back to Savannah and it was a mixed bag.
PRO:
The SCAD campus was awesome. Definitely way more impressive facilities than what they have in Atlanta. Plus, my big fear of not knowing enough about animation was allayed by the assurance that they’d force me to take a few undergrad animation classes to catch me up.
CON:
I don’t know if there’s anything to do in that city besides drinking.
PRO:
Great seafood. Tybee Island was gorgeous. God, I love swimming.
CON:
This is the big one. On Thursday, Michael Jackson, King of Pop, died, and Katie and I had a pretty tough time finding any bar that would celebrate his life.
First stop was a bar that offered $5 all-you-can-drink PBR and $1 shots. With only 20 people in attendance, Katie tried to get them to play “Billie Jean” and then she would buy shots for EVERYONE. No dice. The computer was playing music streamed from the internet? WTF is that?
Next stop was Pinkie Masters, a dive bar that’s a supposed must-go for those in Savannah. It was definitely trashy and had a certain charm but after the dour crowd around the bar didn’t budge upon our jukebox selection of two classic MJ traxXx, we began to have our doubts. Then some guy put some money in and “Eat It” started playing. Katie tried to talk to the guy and thank him but then he admitted to only playing the song because Weird Al is “soooo much better than Michael Jackson” which is such a stupid comparison to even make. He was all like “What about Farrah?” Farrah? Who cares. Pinkie Masters? Lame.
Off to the Hang Fire, a bar we initially thought was a gay bar because only dudes were in it. After we went in, chicks started filing in, making us doubt our chances to hear any MJ. And in fact, they weren’t playing any. We ordered a drink and pulled out our map to pick the next place to go. Some douchey Bret Michaels wannabe came up and was all like “Oh I can help you find what you’re looking for.” We replied that we were “looking for any bar that’s gonna play Michael Jackson” to which he responded “Chfff..” and just ignored us. Later, he was talking to some dumb ugly sluts about Mastodon. In case you missed the tweet, here’s the replay:
Him: Yeah so I saw Mastodon play in France.
Katie: I saw the bassist from Mastodon buying diapers in my Kroger. REAL metal.
At this point, things are looking grim. We are drunk, angry, stumbling around this city desperate for any sort of Jacksonian revelation when finally we find the Jinx, an excellent suggestion from Sandy Hooper who definitely wins the Savannah MVP award. Spinning tracks from the early days of the Jackson 5 all the way up to MJ’s recent releases, the DJ was incredible, mixing in little bits of other traxXx that were inspired by the late King of Pop. I danced so hard and everyone in the bar was real friendly (though it was probably just that they were real happy to see fresh meat). Still, a GREAT time.
So there we have it. Mediocre night life. An OK party scene. A great campus. Wonderful beach. Lots to think about.
