The writer’s retreat officially came to an end yesterday afternoon when Kevin came to pick me up on his white steed…well, actually it’s a Chev Voltage or something equally non-descript, but you get the idea.
We drove down to Seaside for a coffee, a walk around the streets to look at all the gorgeous homes with their endless picket fences. It amazes me that these places with their varying Old South designs were mostly built in 1981, but looking closely, it starts to show…it’s almost too-perfect. Don’t get me wrong, I’d take a house there any time, but there’s something missing that can only come with time. That is, there’s none of that lovely New Orleans decay and rot. I think it’s like a good story, you need a little darkness to fully outline the light.
We decided to keep driving and headed to Panama City, did a drive-by of the old part of town because I wanted to see where my new Florida write-friend had danced a foxtrot in front of the old theatre with a silver-haired gentleman. It’s kind of a long story…but I got to lay eyes on the theatre.
We’re at the Club Intrawest in Sandestin now, deciding what to do with the day that is stretched out in front of us. Might do a paddle in the Choctawhatchee Bay.
Last night we ate at the Acme Oyster Company in the little Baytowne Village here at Intrawest. It is the same Acme Oyster House as the one in New Orleans, but smack dab in this adult Disneyfied vision of what a town should look like in the world of Intrawest.
Consequently, it’s just too perfect. It lacks the element of wabi-sabi; that last shake of the tree to throw down a few leaves to mess things up, the peeling paint that tells a story of a lifetime of experiences or even a bit of garbage blowing in an alley. It’s just too prisitine and somehow that creates a definite lack of soul.
I guess I know what it is. It’s like those forever-surprised looking women who’ve been botoxed, collagen-lipped and silicone-supported within an inch of their lives removing all vestiges of thoughtfulness, any element of character or of having a life that goes beyond the surface.
Sometimes I wish I could just eat my dinner.
Loved this, Colleen. Hope you and your man had a fantastic day. One more day of paradise and it’s back to the cul-de-sac for me. It’s bittersweet, for sure. Transitioning back into the concrete jungle after spending 7 days seaside is going to be rough.
No doubt the concrete world will be a rude awakening. I’m heading into the perpetual rain of winter..argh. But part of me is happy to also hunker down and stay put for awhile. With the exception of the upcoming rather terrifying detox!