The Rac Pack
By: Michael Sullivan

There’s a new version of the 60’s Rat Pack on Tybee that has nothing in common with Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis, Jr. et al.

Except, they thrive on attention.

Big time.

Call them the RAC PACK . You’ll find them nightly getting recognition outside the Quarter on Route 80. Bleu cheese is their big payoff. And, that is where the story revolves.. They dig the munchies. And, photographs. Lots of them.

Like the Rat Pack, they show up after dark. In and around the dumpster. None of the RAC Pack will speak to their obsession. No spokesperson. As a lot, they are 3 feet long and a foot high. They are too busy coppingfood and being raccoons. They are of the dark, foragers. And they know their cues.

These guys are estimated to be a RAC PACK of 4 or 5 and some say 12. They don’t live in the dumpster. They work out of it peeking through the opening looking for cameo shots. They are fearless posing for Kodaks with folks leaving the Quarter. In fact, they expect it.

Tommy Barlow, who owns and operates the joint, says " a neighbor cat starting hanging out with them. He was accepted as a regular." Don’t know if he could sing bass.

Would Sinatra be so kind? A patron adds, " They are so cute."

Banditos, maybe. Cool operators for sure. Close-up mugs, these bushy tailed rackateers.

The favorite story Tommy tells is how did the little, empty white cups end up near the dumpster neatly placed with no bleu cheese left in them from the wings?

Appears the RAC PACK is adept at the scooping dobeedobedoo. Tommy thought his staff was putting him on. Nope, just the raccoons, strangers in the night. Working.

David Jones works at the Quarter. He says the RAC PACK sometimes scope out the driveway area during the day. That must be the advance guard. David says the nightime is the face time for these critters.

David says some seem pretty tame. " Tommy Barlow just calls them like he’s calling for a dog, " says David. Sonny " Dog " Barrett cooks at the Quarter. The RAC PACK must like his stuff. He has an affinity with these guys. He can sense where they are and what the mood is in the PACK. They respond to him. They dig his voice and slow hand approach.

From what I saw, they are much like Sinatra working a Nelson Riddle tune in rehearsal. Watching. Looking, measuring surely, and full of the moment.

Tommy Barlow knows how rabid raccoons work. He is a student. One made a shrieking noise recently and moved in circles. He was out of sorts, confused, and much too rapid in his movements in the space between the dumpster and the surrounding shrubs and trees. Tommy called Animal Control to find the suspect.

He split, maybe to Las Vegas and a bigger meal ticket.

Tommy watches. They landed on him. He manages around them, every night. The RAC PACK has a regular gig and the Atlantic Ocean is nowhere near Nevada.

Sinatra would be proud.

Don't Call Me Hon, Hon!
By: Judy O'Neill

Ok, so, like I’m at the mall, like, you know, and this saleslady says....."Will that be all, Hon?" And I say...are you ready for this?.....Well, actually, I don’t say anything; BUT....I want to scream at her: "DON’T CALL ME HON, HON!!!" If you are a female over the age of 12, you don’t want anybody you don’t know on an extremely close personal level calling you "HON," and even then you hope it’s a joke. How ‘bout "Sweetie," you ask. Nope, Nope, Nope....just as bad, maybe worse. Oh, and one I really hate that usually a man has the you-know-whats to call me: "Little Lady." Brings to mind the bumper sticker line: I’m out of estrogen and I’ve got a gun! So, watch it, Sport!

I don’t know why all these charming little terms of endearment got to be so irritating. Maybe they always were or maybe it’s because I grew up during the Women’s Lib Days. I’ve got an idea though about how to control unwanted "Honey-ing." You know how police officers have those STUN GUNS? How about we invent a "Hon" Gun? Somebody calls you Hon... ZAP! Sweetie? ZAP! Little Lady? ZAP! ZAP!

Men don’t mind if you call them Hon or Sweetie. It builds their egos up. It makes them feel irresistible. But then men think they look hot in tank tops with their underarm hair showing. YUK! And men wear stupid shirts that say something like: "Fish Want Me and Women Fear Me." Yes, I know I have that backwards, but it’s more believable that way... especially if he’s wearing a tank top.

Being called Hon and all those other cutesy names just makes most women mad. And what I don’t get is that so many WOMEN call other WOMEN Hon or Sweetie. Is there something wrong with the tiny brain connectors in their "pretty little heads" or is it some sinister plot just to be irritating? ZAP ‘em all!

For some reason, I don’t mind being called "dahlin’" if it’s done in old-fashioned-Hollywood-movie-star style and has a little southern flair thrown in. And, surprising even myself, I don’t get upset at being called "ma’am."

Although, I can remember my surprise at the first time I heard someone call me "ma’am" and looked around to see if my mother had just arrived. Just don’t call me Hon, Hon!

Things a True Southerner Knows

- The difference between a hissie fit and a conniption fit.
- Pretty much how many fish make up a mess.
- What general direction cattywumpus is.
- That "gimme sugar" don’t mean pass the sugar.
- When somebody’s "fixin" to do something, it won’t be long.
- The difference between Yankee’s and damn Yankee’s.
- How good a cold grape Nehi and cheese crackers are at a country store.
- Knows what, "Well I Suwannee !!" means.
- Ain’t nobody’s biscuits like Grandma’s biscuits !!
- A good dog is worth its weight in gold.
- Real gravy don’t come from the store.
- The War of Northern Aggression was over state rights, not slavery.
- When "by and by" is.
- How to handle their "pot likker".
- The difference between "pert’ near" and "a right far piece".
- The differences between a redneck, a good ol’ boy, and trailer trash.
- Never to go snipe hunting twice.
- At one point learned what happens when you swallow tobacco juice.
- Never to assume that the other car with the flashing turn signal is actually going to make a turn.
- You may wear long sleeves, but you should always roll ‘em up past the elbows.
- You should never loan your tools, pick-up, or gun to nobody.
- A belt serves a greater purpose than holding Daddy’s pants up.
- Rocking chairs and swings are guaranteed stress relievers.
- Rocking chairs and swings with an old person in them are history lessons.

"And they say, Kids say the darndest things! "
by: Debbie Brady Robinson

Most artists love to paint while capturing the light, painting en plein air (in the open air). Painting from life is a pursuit that continually challenges the finest artists in the world. The great Marcos Blahove may often be seen capturing families enjoying their leisure time at the beach. His beautiful beach scenes are reminiscent of the magnificent impressionist, Renoir, who so exquisitely captured people simply enjoying the pleasures of every day life. Our beautiful salt marshes, tidal creeks, palms, egrets, and the like are captured splendidly by our own Sally Bostwick. No need for Sally to hall an easel - she need look no further than the panoramic view via her own back deck! Among others, the talented and accomplished Ann Jackson can often be spotted setting up her easel at various locations around the island. Limited by a hectic schedule, coupled with a little insomnia, I often find myself painting from midnight to 4 a.m. - no phones and no interruptions. The lights in my studio are set up to mimic the daylight, but it’s definitely not plein air painting!  Vacation! That’s the gloriously free and inspirational time when I pack up my wonderful Julian easel. It has never let me down, withstanding near hurricane force winds - there may be a little sand (added texture) in the composition, but the painting goes on. Have easel will travel! That’s my vacation motto. There are a couple of very important prerequisites when my husband Mark and I make vacation plans that include just the two of us. First and foremost, our destination must inspire. In other words, there has to be some subject matter that I want to capture on canvas. Secondly, there must be a golf course in close proximity. Mark has to do something while I’m busy painting! I must admit, the art of framing pictures is not quite the same as painting pictures while on vacation. Interestingly, we are pretty equal when it comes to our passions. I won’t break down my easel and stop painting until the last rays of sunlight sink beneath the clouds. Mark is exactly the same - when that little white ball fades deep into the darkness, he’s done! I know, I know - rough life!

Several years ago, Mark and I traveled with friends to the Bahamas where we sailed the Abacos adventuring from one island to the next. Needless to say, my easel traveled with us. On one occasion, I set up my easel in Elbow Cay. The red and white striped Hope Town lighthouse, nestled in a lush tropical setting, beckoned me to capture it on canvas. While I painted, Mark and our friends toured the island. Since the island is small, one would often run into the same folks over and over again. On one afternoon, Mark and our friends frequently happened upon a particular group of tourists. Deducting from small talk that my husband was there with a wife, one curious woman began to question him with respect to my whereabouts: "Well now Mark, just where is your wife?" the woman inquired. Mark responded, "she’s painting the lighthouse". The woman gazed up at the lighthouse with a very thoughtful look on her face, and after very careful consideration, she finally said, " you know - I thought it was looking better!"

CHIEF BUM SEZ THANKS TYBEE!

For a long time I wanted to speak my piece and say thanks.That is Jack Boylston’s feeling also. We’ve had the honor of staging the Beach Bum Parade on Memorial Day Weekend for the past 16 years.

We can report to you that every year is the best year and my reward is seeing the happiness on the faces of our children and watching Tybee families and visitors enjoy our nationally known event. It is something that as long as Jack and I do the Parade will remain unique.

We had 125 floats this year in the Parade, I’m told, is the biggest weekend on Tybee for business...in fact bigger than the 4th of July. First, our thanks to City Hall support reserving the Pier at no charge and the Parade permit provided us.

Without our Police Department, we could not do it. They lead us. Chief Jimmy Price himself towed the Grand Marshall float from 9th street this year when the Bum Buggy broke down. A way to go to Commander Gene Kindrick at the American Legion lining up the parade and helping to control traffic. Council Person Jimmy Burke and Walter Mitchell are there each year for us aiding in controlling side street traffic.

I want to pass on a secret. I have a " secret weapon " by the name of Casey who helps us in naming our Tybee only honorees. Jack and me usually choose the celebrities each year. We were stumped for the past  two years until Casey saved the day and found the right people for the Grand Marshall, Queen, and Big Kahuna! Casey, thanks. Can you figure out who she is? Maybe the Breeze ought to run a contest. She is our number one! Our honorees will always be Tybee personalities.

Thanks to the Breeze for donating a large sum to offset what comes out of our pockets. Recognition also goes to WTOC-TV for monetary support along with donating precious air time in coverage. Jack says the station is first rate and always prepared to do a super job.

In the year 2000, we were able to write a check for $2,725 dollars for the Backus Children’s Hospital and $1,510 last year to the Children’s Miracle Network. Money will go St. Michael’s Grade School this year after our annual Beach Bums versus the Police softball game. The money comes from entry fees and food sales staged by the American Legion.

The Breeze, Tybee News, and Islands Close-Up are there for us interviewing the Parade honorees and we appreciate the interest and support.

You know I keep going back to the look on kids’ faces that drives me to do an all out job each year. Smiles. Laughter. No frowns. No boredom. That tells us we are doing our job to make the Beach Bum Weekend a winner. This is our standard and marching order in ensuring the Beach Bum Weekend remains a Tybee Family Affair!

We won’t let you down. Thanks, Tybee

Jiggs Watson

PENN MYRICK’S State CHAMPION TREE
By: Michael Sullivan

Tybee’s Penn Myrick discovered and preserved a Tupelo Black Gum on his new Wilmington Island gated duplex condo project, Peter’s Quay, that was named the Georgia State Champion Tree, and the only Champion Tree in all of Chatham County. This rare find was made public in a ceremony at Peter’s Quay off Waltour Road in August that was attended by Chatham County Commissioner Frank Murray, the Georgia’s State Foresters that measured and certified the Black Gum, MPC representatives, and Islands For Logical Development.

Developer Myrick said the Champion Tree was slated for removal until he began his preservation efforts that led to a rare, working partnership with environmental, government, and local watchdog groups along with the discovery of the Tupelo Black Gum’s historic stature.

It measures 94 feet in height with an average crown spread of 89 feet. It is 195 inches round.

" I am so thankful everyone involved sees the value and effort come to fruition, " said Penn Myrick. Chatham County Chairman Billy Hair agrees as does Commissioner Frank Murray who praises Penn Myrick for his preservation efforts. " To his credit, he has made the changes needed to follow procedures and has done everything he said he would to save the tree," said Murray.

Penn plans to lay echo stones to ensure oxygen and flow of water to the roots as well as guard the many other hardwoods and oaks on Peter’s Quay. Penn said the lengthy and expensive process of working with the special interest groups involved has been worth the effort to save and maintain Georgia’s State Champion Tree and the very first Champion Tree in all of Chatham County.