I woke up this morning missing Savannah and the Lowcountry. Here's an article from my old blog, Kill All Your Darlings, where I wrote about a particularly charming evening in the Hostess City.


(Picture by Zachary Graber)

*Originally Published in 2012


The only thing more romantic than falling in love in Savannah is “being” in love in Savannah.  Throughout our relationship in the Hostess City, Z and I have been extremely fortunate in spontaneous date night ventures, and Savannah is always our third wheel.  She’s the setting, the destination, the backdrop, and the mood.  She provides the soundtrack, flowers and yummy smells.  Dating in Savannah is like being the star of your own romantic movie.

Date night for us has become a finite science: we fancy up—and by fancy, I mean we take a shower and iron our clothes—grab a to-go cocktail (open container laws are the best when used responsibly), scan The Connect for something cultural, then hop on our bikes and glide towards something charming.  We’ve learned that simplicity is the quickest way to date night happiness; no expectations equal pleasant surprises.  And, the mobility our bikes provide makes us open to going anywhere or happening upon anything—the lack of parking stress doesn’t hurt either.  If you’ve never cycled in Savannah, then you’re missing out on one of the true treasures of living here. Square after square, past bubbling fountains and jasmine laden gates, floating to and fro on a bicycle in Savannah is romance at its most delightful.

And so it was, this past Friday, we found ourselves cycling through the Historic District towards The Sparetime in support of the Seersucker Live show, a local literary bonanza/organization which avidly organizes readings by local and visiting authors.  The nonprofit's promise to provide “part literary reading, part talk show, part cocktail party” is always well kept.  Two gin and tonics later, we were settled into folding chairs with fifty or so other guests being serenaded by jaunty tunes on a keyboard.  What followed was an NPR-like broadcast of audience participatory literary trivia, good natured roasting of local writers, and some damn good readings.

The hosts of the show always ask the guest authors two questions: “Who the hell are ya?” and “What book do you recommend?”.  The answers are often times witty and poignant with the occasional self deprecating joke thrown into the mix.  This little questionnaire, though brief, creates a nice bit of intimacy between the audience and performer.  Patrons leave the show feeling as if they really met and listened to someone special in the literary scene.  

Amelia Gray was definitely one of those people for me.  

Bedecked in big glasses with a toothy smile and equal parts goofy girl meets verbal ninja persona, Gray was the star of the night with stories from her book, Museum of the Weird.  Full of what she calls “3 minute short stories” about all things absurd, her writing was ridiculously readable and made for even better listening.  Gray’s performance coupled with some witty musical banter between her and the keyboardist was perfect fodder for an evening of laid back brain stimulus.

Afterwards, the night still young and the light still golden,we hopped on our bikes and pedaled to Forsyth Park to watch Mayer Hawthorne play the free SCAD ALUMNI concert.

(Another one of the many perks of living in this beautiful First City are the free nighttime events at the park.)

Two solo cups of beer later, we were happily snuggled front row in the grass with other SCAD alumni, listening to awesome funk.  Friends were met, dance parties ensued, and sweet kisses in the moonlight were the main fare on the night’s menu.

In most cities, a date night consists of over priced cocktails, expensive tickets to something overrated, and an arm and a leg spent on parking; but in Savannah, a spectacular evening of FREE events and cheap drinks relies solely on the air in your tires and the company you keep.  

I love being in love in Savannah.