St. Paddy's Day in Savannah

So we survived. We made it home, spent hardly and money and had a great time. We woke up later than planned, but in no way day de-railing. Our biggest quandry though was trying to decide what to bring, we had beer, bring rolling cooler or not to bring rolling cooler? Bringing the cooler meant we'd have to go back to the car before going to the bars, at some indeterminate distance. But then that meant that we would have to carry the beer that same distance.... what to do?

Well we brought the cooler so we could also bring chairs. We stopped at Walmart to use the free ATM, get cups and sandwiches. and McDonald's breakfast. hmm

So we hit the road, and it was spooky, it was absolutely dead. We were about the only car on the road. Which led us to believe A. Saint Patrick's Day in Savannah isn't nearly the big deal everyone told us it was or B. Everyone had gotten downtown so early there wasn't anyone left. We finally decided that it was just our Yankee get up and go genes and that our slower moving sourthern neighbors were still just hung over frm the night before and going at their usual pace.

We were half right. The hardcore were there the casual observers would follow in about two hours. We were totally struck by the light hearted lawlessness of the day. Basically you can park anywhere as long as you're not blocking the road. Cars were parked on the medians, sidewalks, and everyone had their go-cups out at 9:00 am. So we found a spot not about 10 blocks from where we were meeting people and set off, well about halfway there we found a pseudo spot, if Kris were to back in perpendicular to two parked cars it could work. So I guarded the spot with my fiercest "I was born in the Bronx" face and Kris got the car- bonus!

We found Kris' co-workers and got down to the business of satisfying our tremendous thirst. The parade was four hours long, here's a few highlights:

Women run out and kiss soldiers and firefighters (who come from everywhere) so they all had lipstick kisses and it was adorable.
Kris and an actual Irishmen nearly brawled at the porta potty line.
A real marching band should wear track suits and have booty dancers

That's about it- we walked about 5.5 miles and by the time we got home we could barely walk.