The South Shall Rise Again...

..and they will do it through their pralines. I am currently suffering from withdrawl of Southern food. It's not fair. They don't send you home with care packages of Southern fried chicken or anything, to help you get yourself off slowly. No, they just cut you off. Luckily for me, I have a box of River Street Sweets here to help get me through the rough patches. Incidentally, their catalog? It has the effect on me that I imagine porn does for men.

So on with the show. I'm going to take a few posts to describe the joy of Savannah, and I'll handle just a bit right now since I'm time crunched and have to get on a freaking plane tomorrow morning.

After a pretty uneventful flight (got some knitting done, and some progress in my latest Doctor Who novel), we landed in Savannah. Mike had to run to the bathroom, so I'm hanging out in the gate area, when I see JAMIE DEEN walk by me. Let that sink in - JAMIE. DEEN. Paula's boy. Being the slick, unaffected New Yorker that I am, I gape, open-mouthed. Then I grab my phone, text Stacey and Piera, and call my mother.

"MOM!!" I hiss. "Jamie Deen just walked into the newstand where I'm standing!"

Mom: "Huh?

Roe: "Mom. Jamie Deen. Jamie. Deen. The older Deen brother!"

Mom: "You saw Jan and Dean?"

Folks, I wouldn't know Jan and Dean if they ran me over in an SUV. The only reason I even know who Jan and Dean are is because they were featured on some K-Tel beach oldies compilation that advertised on Channel 11 (11 Alive!) when I was a kid. I take a deep breath, see Jamie buying some newspapers, and say...

Roe: "JAMIE DEEN! DEEEEEEEN!!! PAULA DEEN'S GORGEOUS SON!"

Mom: "Oh!!! The good-looking one? What about the little one?"

Now, she tells Will that I've seen Jamie Deen, and he's asking me for his autograph. At this point, I get a text from Stacey, so I tell my mother I'll call her back. Stacey's asking for a camera phone shot. Folks, there is NO WAY I can do that surreptitiously, and I would look like an even bigger dope. I'm not in Savannah for 10 minutes and I've blown my street cred entirely. Mike emerges from the bathroom, and I figure I've already gone this far. I run over to him and blurt out, "Jamie Deen is in the newsstand!"

What's that about New Yorkers seeing celebrities all the time, so they don't even notice them? Yeah. Right.

I ask Mike to go get his autograph for his son. He refuses. Apparently, the prospect of meeting Jamie Deen is lost on him. He tells me to go get his autograph. No. We take our bags and walk, as Mike calls his friend who's letting us stay in his apartment while we're in Savannah. I'm busily texting Stacey as Mike casually whacks my shoulder and gestures.

It's Bobby Deen, walking the same way.

I stop in mid-text, and call Karen to trumpet the news. I'm such a nerdling. This is my entrance to Savannah? Complete Food Network fangirl meltdown?

While Mike goes to the car rental desk, I call Stacey and document my shame. She laughs at me. Sigh. I never claimed to be aloof.

Enjoy some Savannah pics while I head to Des Moines; more updates as I go.

Here it is! Paula's restaurant - and this is the closest I got to it...

Aaaaaargh! The wall o'pirate shirts at a store on River Street.

Miles of snackage at River Street Sweets. I think I gained an extra 10 pounds just inhaling.

Awwww... self-portrait on River Street.