Let me see…where to start. It’s been a few weeks since I posted anything real or original, and I have a lot of material to cover, but I think I’ll spread it out over a few days. Otherwise it would get confusing and long.

A few weekends ago, Melissa and I went to her Uncle and Aunt’s lake house on Lake Sinclair in Georgia. I had been warned of two things: the house is in the middle of nowhere, and her family is not known for their ability to give directions. I figured there was no way it could be that bad...I was mistaken. I knew we were probably in trouble when I got off of I-20, then crossed it twice during the course of following her aunt’s directions. At this point, I decided to follow Google’s directions, as they had not yet let me down. Note I said “had.” Google, why hast thou forsaken me? The directions were pure crap. Roads were mentioned that did not exist, and I wound up doing a lrage loop around the small town of Sparta, GA. Luckily, my cell phone is equipped with GPS software, so I keyed in the address, and off we went...down a twisting, turning maze of dirt roads until we arrived. What should have been a right around a two and a half hour drive took almost three and a half by the time Aunt Judy and Google were done with us. Luckily, Melissa’s cousin Haley mixed me a nice gin and tonic upon arrival, so I felt better immediately.

I’m not going to lie, I was a bit nervous. I’ve spent plenty of time with her dad, Tim, and we get along, but I had never met most of the relatives, and we were there for the whole weekend. Also, I was sleeping in the same bed with his baby girl, and I wasn’t 100% sure how he was going to feel about it. Not to worry, we all got along fabulously, drank beer, played games, and just generally hung around in the lake. I actually look forward to going back down there on Labor Day weekend. I had a great time, and her Uncle Ingram’s ribs were beyond outstanding. I think I came close to eating my own body weight in ribs. Unfortunately, we had to leave early Sunday morning, because Sunday was demolition day at the Village Idiot. We were closing down for the week so that we could redo the bar and the floors, making more room and a smoother workflow for the staff.

The drive home was uneventful, I had the GPS up and running from the get-go, so we made it home quickly. I changed into work clothes, and we went to the Idiot (Melissa went with me to see what was going to happen.) We had a pretty decent turnout of employees, but most of the morning was spent moving things instead of smashing things. Luckily, Kelly quickly picked up on my love of destrutcion, and she put Feldman (who hates his nickname) and me in charge of pulling down the wooden railing that separates the bar from the dining area. When we finally got most everything moved, I pulled a Homer Simpson, put my head under one of the taps, pulled the handle, and started drinking. It was one of the greatest moments of my life. That, and when the sledgehammers came out and we started demolishing the bar…while we were drinking. Feldman put all of hi hatred for his nickname behind that sledgehammer, and wood started flying. We all took a turn, and by then the bartop was in pieces. It was nothing short of pure mayhem. I’m kind of amazed that no one was hurt, since we were drinking, and not wearing any type of protective gear. Brian, the owner, did receive some shrapnel in the leg, and Feldman, one of the drivers, hit himself in the foot on the follow through, but neither was very serious.

Then, when we were all done, Brian took all of us out for lunch and more drinking. All in all, a fantastic weekend.

Coming up next: Why Bomb Pop is the devil, Allendale bachelor party recap, and very soon, a video tour of the house (we’re repainting this weekend.)

Until then, here are a two videos from demolishing the bar:



Moses, the bar manager, takes out some pent up frustration



Brian, the owner, takes over where Moses left off.


JT out.