By Mark Faris “The Coast Bard”
I had one of those signature, full-drool BLTs the other day. The kind with lightly toasted White Mountain bread - crust removed. Blue Plate mayo. Fresh lettuce, tomatoes and undercooked bacon. The real good kind.
It was the first such foray into snackdom since Big Irm blowed through with Cat 4 force, leaving a nasty trail of desolation, heartbreak and abandoned curbside appliances.
In a way, that tasty munch marked a return to normalcy for yours truly. Welcome respite from the rigors of hurricane diets based on Chef Boyardee’s shut-up-and-eat, dining-in-the-dark postulate.
And it’s not just that BLT. Other signs of a return to the good old days are popping up all over. Not the least of which are water, air conditioning, gasoline and the emergence of greenery from our wind-singed foliage. And, lest we forget, availability of the occasional on-street parking spot.
In an effort to accelerate and commemorate this well-earned return to the way we were, the crack staff here at Coast has meticulously assembled a benefit concert intended to rival the like of Woodstock and Monterey Pop.
And with such headliners as Langhorne Slim, G. Love, Rayland Baxter, Rorey Carroll and a dozen more of the same talented ilk, who would argue.
In the time-honored Coast tradition of maximum bang for minimum bucks, all-access passes for the concerts are being offered at $100 per copy. Less than 50 remain.
The Coast is Clear hurricane hoedown takes place Thursday, Nov. 30 (the last official day of hurricane season) and Friday, Dec. 1. Venues include Green Parrot and Coast Outpost, both in the Bahamas Village area of Whitehead Street. Blue Heaven, on Petronia Street. And Coast studios on Stock Island. For tickets and more information, just click around here on the site.
We still are open to suggestions of appropriate and worthwhile beneficiaries of the event. So far, such candidates include restoration of the badly damaged Grimal Grove gardens in Big Pine. Installation of a much-needed left-turn light at the White Street/Truman Avenue intersection. And much-needed professional counseling of the celebrated, six-toed Hemingway cats.
They seem so confused. And gravity is such a fickle mistress.