Now is Good

You can already feel it.

The town is going into pre-Sandy mode and hunkering down. It's hysterical.

By late afternoon, I was seeing pictures on Facebook of the long lines at Kroger.

Seriously, people?

Yes, the governor has already declared a state of emergency. And that's okay.

I, for one, learned back in 2003 pre-Isabel when a state of emergency was declared and we scoffed.

No, really, my friend and I sat at Avalon and dismissed the folly of declaring a SoE before the storm even got near land.

Twelve days later when I finally got my power back (seriously, twelve), I'd lost the ability to scoff.

So with Sandy bearing down, I know people are beginning to nest.

Sorry, just can't do it.

Instead, willing accomplice and I grabbed umbrellas and put foot in path to head to Mama J's for pre-Sandy soul food.

The line was out the door.

But, as is so often the case, we got seated immediately because we were willing to sit at the bar.

Meanwhile, people in line long before us continued to stand in the rain in hope of getting a table before the place closed.

Fools.

Our bartender was sunny and attentive and I immediately displaced a former coworker with a hug when I sat down, so life was good.

We began with tonight's soup, a trout chowder, thick and creamy and loaded with corn, potatoes and the unmistakable taste of trout.

No one but Mama J's would offer such a thing, I swear it.

Next came Mama J's famous seafood salad, a combination of elbow macaroni with shrimp and crab legs in a creamy dressing heavy on the Old Bay.

Let's just say it's justifiably famous (especially for three bucks).

While people lined up at the bar to make to-go orders (honestly, some of them were ordering enough to carry them through Sandy and the aftermath), we took our time, ordering fried chicken and cole slaw next.

"It'll take twenty minutes for that, " our bartender warned, a fact with which we had no problem.

We had nothing but time.

As we watched an incident unfold where the ownership of the last piece of rum cake was in question, we noticed that Mama's was down to only two kinds of cake.

Since they almost always have five varieties, it told us that it had been a busy day/week for soul food.

Eventually our fried chicken arrived, too hot to pick up but smelling too good to ignore.

Within minutes, we were pulling the pieces apart and savoring crispy skin and hot meat, all the while keeping an eye on the cake case.

When we'd cleared our plate, we qualified for dessert (just like with my Richmond grandmother) and had a choice of chocolate cake with either strawberry frosting or chocolate frosting.

My date opted for chocolate/chocolate, the signature cake of my youth, where our motto was, "You can never have too much chocolate."

It explains a lot, doesn't it?

Once we finished as much of the cake as we could (it had been a filling meal, after all), we felt obligated to vacate our stools so some of the teeming masses could sit in our stead.

It was an atmospheric walk home in the light rain, impending fog and warm air.

You could practically smell that there's a storm coming.

My date went to work and I called a friend who answered the phone with, "What? Are you bored?"

In short order, I was invited over for bubbles and an exchange of witticisms.

Not a bad offer for a Friday night.

Passing by the Kroger, I was reminded, not of the impending storm, but of the impending holiday as I saw two gringos standing out front.

Serapes, straw hats and cigarillos made the look.

Further on, I saw Super Girl snapping on her cape before getting into her SUV.

Ah, yes, the holiday of fantasy is almost upon us.

Costume-less, I made for my friend's house.

Like any good party, we all ended up in the kitchen, the back door wide open to the damp, warm air and smell of impending doom.

Our host graciously poured Mumm Napa Brut Rose, full of beautiful bubbles, a yeasty fragrance and a hint of strawberries.

Or, as the curly-haired one observed after her first sip, "Mmmm, I could drink this first thing in the morning every single day!"

Wouldn't that be a lovely life?

Between the interesting musical selections, stuff like new Keane, old Weepies, Nick Drake, and Captain Sensible, he who co-founded The Damned and went on to re-brand himself as an alt-pop singer.

And I liked his alt-pop, if I do say so myself.

And that's a good party when I discover a musician I hadn't known and get to hear it played at party volumes while sipping the prettiest of pink bubbles from a bottle with a label one guest described as "Like pink peau de soie."

When's the last time you were at a party and someone mentioned, much less knew what peau de soie was?

When's the last time a state of emergency was declared and I drank pink bubbles in anticipation?

When's the last time I got made fun of so badly that I almost rolled off the sofa laughing so hard?

Not recently enough.

To quote a doctor I once interviewed, "If not now, when?"