Hello again. First full day in Huntsville Alabama, it’s no New Orleans, but it knows how to let its hair down.
I awoke this morning and realized that I dream exclusively things I cannot recall. With this in mind we started off our day at FUNNTASIA, a place so fun they added a whole bunch of letters to the word and called their place that.
We ran into a transplanted family; here the mother is glued to the TV, hoping to hear some fresh news on the ongoing GUSTAV. At that point, the levees seemed to be holding, video footage did show water spilling over the top, but for the most part being held timidly back.
Nothing takes your mind off a storm that could decimate the city your friends helped rebuild like a much too competitive round of mini golf. It was a nail biter with Nate, Zach and I trading strokes and the lead all the way through the Zebra course. (Our other option was the elephant course, but we didn’t know there was another option till we finished, still I stand by the decision) Gill was too busy wearing sunglasses and talking on his Bluetooth ear thing to put up much of a fight, so he became the comic relief, but he sucked at that too.
Here we argued at a seminal point about the etiquette of mini golf. Nate had an almost preternatural sense of the topic, but tempers did flare up. At one point I had to walk away and pee in the pond just to cool off. (I suggest if you do go to funntasia to try the elephant course) In the end I walked away the victor, my prize was lunch, courtesy of the sorry bunch I had beaten. (tensions continue to be high in the group, Nate still contending I miscounted on several holes when I did not. Rather I knowingly gave the wrong score)
This gorilla cannot wait to haunt me tonight. Or hug me I guess. It’s probably going to do both.
This was a very cool local coffee shop down the street, great little place with more people outside and around it than actually inside.
Based on an Internet recommendation, we headed to David Gibson’s BBQ, on the way we stopped at this… large tribute to the holy man’s son, JESUS. Here he has been tastefully plastered onto a 60 ft building.
Where to begin with David Gibson’s? Well, we ate at 3pm, it’s now nearly 11pm and me eating is as likely as me watching hotel erotica 3 over the phone with my mom. We all stuffed our faces with slow cooked beef and pork, sides of slaw, beans and potato salad. Everything was moist and the BBQ sauce was a perfect compliment to the piles of pulled meat. We were given a full bag of white roles and plenty of house hot sauce to create massive pulled pork/beef sandwiches. It was bare bones simple and done perfectly.
Harold Gibson, David’s son and current owner took us in the back and showed us the operation. Massive hickory logs stacked out back led us into the kitchen. He explained the entire smoking process in such detail and with such passion that it would be disrespectful to try and do it justice here. All I knows is it was good, and if I’m ever in Huntsville this will definitely be a spot I come back to.
His Mom is 88 and still works in the kitchen.
Being so full it hurt to sit down/breathe, we checked out a local park, adjacent to a large series of housing projects. While the area was somewhat neglected, the kids were amazingly friendly and it was a nice way to let my body digest.
It seems New Orleans was able to avoid the brunt of the storm; we are all relieved and look forward to returning promptly.
No comments:
Post a Comment