Brief Update from Savannah, GA (Patreon)

(Please see the photo captions for more-concise early thoughts on my visit here.)

With the exception of the local drivers, upon whose murderous pathologies I will expound elsewhere—perhaps before legislature—Savannah presents itself as modestly charming. 

My tourism needs are not difficult to satisfy. I hold fast only to the following humble requests, formed out of necessity over the course of a lifetime of travel:

1. That there not be more than three cavernous shops selling the same four dozen tasteless and vulgar T-shirts in any single block*;

2. That there be at least one museum containing at least one malfunctioning display, the malfunction of which having gone unaddressed for so long it has become accepted as part of the display, perhaps even garnering mention on an updated placard; 

3. That no-one dressed as Paul Revere anachronistically beckons me into a T-Mobile store. 

Savannah has delivered handsomely on all three counts. I would go into greater detail, but it is time for me to take my jeans out of the dryer (unrelated to point #2) and go to an oyster roast at Re:Purpose Savannah. Lauren is speaking at a conference on demolition and deconstruction policy, which means I'm about to spend three long hours listening to people bitch about dimensional lumber.  

C

* E.g., "I Got My Lits Tickled on Bourbon Street"