Vacation Recap, Part Three: I want to write about something that was SO funny but I'm not sure the written word can capture the hilarity of the visual. On one of the cable channels, a show called "Tourist TV" aired for 4 hours each morning and evening. It was a bit like a bunch of commercials, showing certain restaurants, numbers for parasailing, jetski rentals, boat tours and stuff, but there was more information to it - for example, the two narrators would talk about the Gulf, sea life, a bit of history and then show the commercials for places that offered boat tours, snorkeling, etc. or show clips of previous events when talking about annual festivals that take place in the Fort Walton/Destin area. Both Alan and I thought it was great, giving people that weren't familiar with the area more ideas of things to do and places to go. After he discovered it, we usually tuned in while getting ready for the beach, eating breakfast or getting ready to go out. And then something happened that made me watch it every single time I possibly could, to catch this one snippet.

It began with "Local History" and focused on the last known operating seine boat, the Primrose, which is on display at a Destin museum. The narration told of the boatwright, the ship's captains (father and son), its long association with Destin and as this was going on, film clips of the unveiling of the restored boat were being shown. Someone had the idea to christen the boat and an elderly lady stepped up to do the honors (the narration didn't identify her). She could barely lift the magnum of champagne so standing behind her, also holding the bottle and planning to lend a hand, was this tiny, wizened old man in a captain's hat. Both these oldsters looked like a mistral wind could carry them away; we are not talking Popeye-scale arm strength, here. So, right hands together, they hefted the magnum and swung it boatward. The bottle didn't break but ricocheted; one could literally watch the vibration of the blow travel up the old lady's arm to her shoulder and reach her body, causing her to stagger back two steps and nearly fall over. It was a real-life version of the old cartoons when Bugs Bunny conceals an anvil and Elmer Fudd or Yosemite Sam boing right into it. Even without the cartoon "shaking" lines, the reverb obviously shook her entire body. She literally staggered backward, powered by champagne bottle. It was the funniest thing I have ever seen. I howled with laughter and watched for the clip every chance I got. Yes, I mock the elderly. Sue me.

You may be able to watch this for yourself; Tourist TV has a website and I thought they had a live feed, but it evidently doesn't like either of my browsers (Safari and Firefox) so I can't be sure.

Wednesday evening, around 8:30, I heard these popping noises like fireworks. I looked outside and saw the reflections of fireworks in the lake but I couldn't see the fireworks themselves. Alan pinpointed the source and we ran upstairs to look toward Sandestin. Our best guess is that the fireworks originated from there, though we have no idea why - unless Wednesday, August 17 is some national holiday about which I'm unaware. It was one of the most beautiful, unusual and impressive pyrotechnics displays I've ever seen. It was gorgeous and all the more enjoyable for being completely unexpected, a surprise treat.

Thursday we walked on the beach and then took the scenic drive up 30A, which had been recommended to us by several people. Alan enjoyed this more than I did so he really ought to be the one writing about it. I was like, "Yeah, some trees, some beaches, some buildings." I'd rather have been on the beach and in the piece of Gulf to which we had access, instead of inside the car looking at more of it. Okay, there were some very pretty areas, including Grayson Beach, Seaside, Watercolor - but for every picturesque enclave we saw, there were 5 construction cranes and 3 areas that had been virtually strip-mined for more construction. We lunched at The Crab Trap; he had a burger and I had garlic-broiled crab claws - yummalicious!

We lazed about reading for a while and selected Destin Chops for dinner. That's the favorite restaurant of Michelle's husband (the folks who lent us the villa) and he was so very, very, very right about it. Alan had onion rings as an appetizer, prime ribeye and garlic mashed potatoes. I had escargots in herbed butter to start, grouper in meuniere sauce topped with jumbo lump crab on a bed of multicolored peppers - it was BEYOND. As in, beyond the capacity of any adjective I can apply. Stuffed to the gills, we nevertheless ordered dessert: Snickers cheesecake for Alan, creme brulee and an Irish coffee for me. Sublime. Best dinner ever.

Friday we beached from 8:30 until well after noon. We had sandwiches in and lazed around reading through the heat of the afternoon and then got ready for dinner at Beachwalk (hostess Michelle's favorite restaurant). This restaurant had a more trendy, hip, Asian-fusion approach to the food. It was equally good with Destin Chops but my taste runs more toward the cuisine at Chops. Still a fine meal: I had seared scallops in sundried tomato risotto and again started with escargots - totally different from the ones at Chops, baked in a puff pastry with lemon, but also delicious. Alan had a tomato-mozzarella-basil salad, roasted bone-in pork chop with morel sauce and oven-roasted fingerling potatoes. Two Bananas Foster cheesecakes for dessert completed the meal and I had a snifter of the lovely MacAllan. It had been quite a while since I'd indulged in a snort of single-malt and it was wonderful.

Now I want to tell you about the most amusing insult I ever delivered. So far, anyway. At Beachwalk, hanging out at the bar while we were standing at the hostess desk waiting to be seated were these two loud, boorish guys. They were the type who wanted to let everyone know they had money and were out to party; one guy had on ostrich-hide cowboy boots and the other had a big clunky gold link bracelet - that type. All flash and no substance, if you ask me. They continued loud and vulgar during dinner, growing louder as they got drunker. Gold Bracelet kept saying to Ostrich Boots, "Hurry up, boy! Gotta get to Cava [a trendy martini and tapas bar] - got me a piece a ass waitin' on me!" He was really looking forward to that piece of ass, and apparently wanted to make sure we all knew it - you know, just in case we, his fellow diners, happened to look over at him and think, "There's a loser who's stuck having dinner with his buddy on a Friday night - he probably isn't getting any!", we would be disabused of that notion straightaway.

We paid our check and happened to leave just after a family and right before these guys, so three sets of people walked up the stairs and out to valet parking at about the same time. Much talk of Gold Bracelet's piece of ass was loudly delivered during this process. Alan was frowning at them and looking disapproving is as he is very genteel and well-mannered; he found such talk completely inappropriate in front of ladies and especially in front of the family, whose kids were elementary-school age or even younger - not an age where you want them hearing about "hurrying up to get a piece of ass". How rude and vulgar can you be?!? The valets bring the family's car and they leave. Gold Bracelet tells the valet, "Hurry up with my car, boy! We gotta get to Cava! Got me a piece a ass waitin' on me!" Alan frowns again and I decide that, on behalf of women everywhere, I must seek vengeance. The valet brings a black Mercedes convertible - which I can't rag too much on the Mercedes convertible because I used to drive one myself, but his is sorta pimped out and mine wasn't. So as he gets into his car - the top is down - I put on my brightest, biggest smile, wave my bounciest, most gleeful wave and in my happiest, friendliest voice, holler at him, "BYE! SORRY ABOUT YOUR PENIS!" Alan and the valet guys look at me astounded and I say, "Hey, I felt he was compensating."

Sorry, Mom and Dad - once again, I've managed to overcome my refined and proper upbringing, but, y'know, I felt it needed to be said.

Saturday we beached for a few hours. Alan actually enjoyed the Gulf until a jellyfish took exception to his presence. Then we packed up, crated the boys and left for home. *sniffle* Thus endeth my recap of a thoroughly wonderful, relaxing, totally enjoyable fantastic vacation.

Embarassing vulgar men with tiny tackle everywhere,
Helly