February 21, 2008 Issue

One of the few perks of the journalism biz is that nice people often invite you to nice places where they want to ply you with liquor and allow you to nibble on a variety of yummy treats. And so it was that I roved (sorry Bill) out to Seagar’s recently to help them mark the occasion of the eight consecutive years they have been designated as an AAA 4-Diamond restaurant destination. The AAA rep noted the organization doesn’t just give these out to any old restaurant and in fact in the whole of the Panhandle, there were only two so named. He didn’t tell us where the other one was.

In one of those full circle moments, I realized I had been in attendance the very first year the restaurant was honored. In those days, Seagar’s had cigars—a humidor room in fact — because people were allowed to abuse their lungs in public. I was working for another publication and I remember the invitation arriving with my name on it and calling me the entertainment editor. There was no such animal, but as I was the features editor and it had my name on it, I went. No fool me.

On that occasion, I seated myself at the bar and proceeded to drink more than two whiskey sours. They were generous, well made, and quite tasty. For some reason I remember the bartendress’ name was Kara and she was newly pregnant. I can’t remember yesterday, but I remember that? But I digress.
Along the way, servers kept serving all of us from the main parts of the menu. We got Caesar salads made at table, ditto some flaming dessert, maybe bananas foster, and some type of steak that melted in your mouth. We got the star treatment for sure. I decided right then I wanted to be an entertainment editor all the time.

This year’s celebration was a bit more restrained, but still very very nice. Gone is the humidor room, having been transformed into a wine storage area. Otherwise, the place is the same, right down to much of the personnel.

When I arrived, unfashionably on time, I was greeted by name by the lovely Nancy Stanley, who is the marketing manager for Hilton Sandestin and shown to a seat. She brought me wine, which is generally a good start to any occasion. We chatted. She introduced me to chef Bruce McAdoo and we chatted. Bruce has been with Seagar’s for nine years, so he has much to do with any honors coming to the place. Shortly, servers began gliding around with treats to eat. The wine glass stayed miraculously full, until I said uncle. All in all, it was a nice mid-week break and I was honored to be asked to participate.

Nancy told me the restaurant is going to commemorate their 10th anniversary in May and they are planning a major celebration at that time. I hope they invite me again. Any time one gets a chance to visit such a nice place one should go. This is the kind of place worth saving up your dining out dollars for. I suspect many do save up and note special birthdays, anniversaries and other of life’s high moments at Seagar’s and that is exactly right.

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Earlier today I was musing on one of the weirder aspects of aging. One can see the erosion of face and body, but other, subtler things change as well.

For most of my working life, I always made sure I lived pretty close to the place I worked. I knew a car commute in the city would render me homicidal and I have never liked to drive much anyway. In the old days, I was about 10 minutes by car from my office. Mornings were never welcome and I slept until the last possible moment. I would get up about a half hour before I was due at work, take a lightening fast shower, brush my teeth, and leave the house with wet hair. I had my coffee at work and in those days seldom ate breakfast.

In my dotage, I wake before the crack of dawn and shuffle into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I want coffee immediately and food soon afterward. I’ve gotten into oatmeal, for the love of Pete, so you know I’m pushing on in years. But there is something about the warm mushy gruel that comforts me and with a microwave; oatmeal is practically instant, which seems to be important to me as I dodder around gathering the energy to start my day.

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