Voodoo Pogo Stick Swamp Thing and Stuff

 Headed south from Defuniak to overnight in Perry, Florida. Perry is the kind of place where we like to spend the night. It's quiet, fair amount of history, not too many people, and of course it has a WalMart. But the best part of Perry (and recommended by everyone) is Deal's self-proclaimed Famous Oyster House.

 It's an old Florida roadhouse restaurant that's been around since Ponce de Leon's arrival in 1273. The first thing that assaults you when you walk through the door is a waiter who booms out, "The finest people in the world pass through these doors!!!"  Every time a person walks in he yells again. The point is that a place like this is entertaining in itself. You don't need muzak or cool lighting or fancy, granite stuff, or a wine list. (Actually, that would have been nice.) It is what it is and has been for hundreds of years.

 The food is fried (for the most part) and far too fattening, which makes it all the better. There are some interesting things on the menu such as this splatter on the platter called "swamp cabbage"--steamed hearts of palm. Sounds terrible. Tastes great.

 Here's Paul's dinner: french fries, fried chicken, fried okra, and fried hushpuppies.

 And wonder of wonders: a soft drink. Since many of these Florida roadhouses don't serve booze. Heaven forbid. Probably a good thing when you think about it because these spots are generally stuck back in the swamps and you need to be stone sober to find your way out. Makes it fun and kind of creepy at the same time.

Again, welcome to the wide, wonderful world of road-tripping. In short, get your ass out of the easy chair and away from your comfortable, everyday existence and go see this great land of ours. Time's a fleetin'.

 About half-way through the meal, the damndest noise erupts. You turn around and here comes Zodie, the owner, marching through her restaurant banging a stick on the floor, one lined with cymbals and drums. It's the kind of thing you see in New Orleans at Mardi Gras. The sound is monotonous, horrific, and very voodoo like which is what it probably is. And back here in the moss-draped, gator-infested, snake-laden swamps it sounds like a perfect fit.

 Ask Zodie what it is and she simply says, "It's a pogo stick". Yep, that's what it is. With things on it that make noise.

 I was given so much to eat--more fried shrimp, fried okra and other fried swamp things that I got a to-go box and, of course, had to have another shot in front of Deal's, a place we'll not forget.

 If you're a member of the Elks, Perry has a lodge with plenty of RV parking for $15 a night. Another "deal", so to speak. There are several acres of grass for Daisy where she can run amok**. She scared the hell out of a feral cat and ran after it into the swamp. Thought we'd lost her forever but after a few minutes she came prancing out like the princess she is. Daisy, not the cat.  Probably should keep her on a short leash because of all the critters around.

 Ain't y'ens learnin' a lot? That's how Florida swamp people talk.

Next stop: Tampa/St. Pete, our final destination before pulling a u-turn. Sue ya, Daisy

** The origin of the word "amok". It comes from a Malay/Indonesian term that roughly means "out of control".