Back to Lake Martin, and to Oskar's

I have no clue why but it seemed fitting to have the last trip be to Oskar's Cafe in Dadeville, a seafood-shack-turned-destination on Lake Martin. The first time I went there, it was a dump; we sat in the back at what I remember to be a picnic table (though maybe it wasn't) and drank beer and ate fried fish, shrimp, and oysters. That was a couple of years ago. Now it's nicer than that. Notice that I didn't say that it's nice; I said that it's nicer. Tonight, I feasted on fried catfish and fried shrimp, fried dill pickles and cole slaw, and washed it all down with a Budweiser. Good eatin'. I've never left Oskar's hungry. There's only one other thing worth telling about Oskar's -- Oskar is a woman, not a man, a feisty redhead. Once you meet her, you'll believe she's named Oskar. If you're in eastern Alabama, stop there.

Tonight, we're at Lake Martin for the first time this season. We spent the day sweeping up dead bugs, cleaning spider carcasses out of dark corners, and airing the place out. I cooled off some Sierra Nevada Kellerweis and Dixie Blackened Voodoo for me, and some Abita Purple Haze for my wife. I don't let my kids drink beer, not even at the lake, so I didn't have to worry about getting them any. The sun is setting as I write this. I have a belly full of fried deliciousness, a bunch of good brew in the fridge, and my sweet wife to keep me company after the kids are in bed. What more could a boy from Alabama ask for. G'night.