Is Paris Really A Moveable Feast?

Ernest Hemingway has a famous quote: "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast." He wrote this in a letter to a friend in 1950. He wrote a book "A Moveable Feast" in 1960, just before he killed himself in 1961. It concerned the years 1921 to 1926, when he was a young man in Paris. 

I'm a food guy, but I don't think Hemingway was talking about food when he used the word feast in his quote or book. I think his quote about Paris being a "moveable feast", means that the experiences and inspirations he gained in Paris in his youth, stayed with him throughout his life. Paris for him was a constant source of delight and creative passion, even after he left the city. 

I never traveled to Paris in my youth. I was 58 on my first of 4 trips. Nevertheless, Paris has been a constant source of delight and creative passion for me. My first 2 trips in 2007 and 2009, fixed in my mind the idea of what Paris embodies. My trips in 2015 and in the spring this past year were to a different Paris. Time changes everything. 

Perhaps, it was that way for Hemingway. That might be the reason he blew his brains out at the young age of 61 years, his inability to adjust to change. All suicides are heartbreaking but his suicide was also such a waste of talent. No one knows the inner torments people go through. Maybe Hemingway's life changes created a fear of losing his identity as a writer or a longing for the past that wasn't there anymore and the inability to accept that. 

People are fighting battles you know nothing about. In this age of political intolerance and attempts to divide us, we lose sight of what is really important in life. Change is going to come but you don't have to lose your humanity to face it. 

In my first two trips, I found a city focused on culture, art, social issues, urban development, sports and cuisine. Being a food person, I focused on the cuisine and art. They sort of go hand in hand. When we travel, Sally, my wife, takes care of planning places we need to see, the sights. I plan where we will stay and where we will eat and drink as we go see the stuff she has lined up. Paris has got to be one of the ultimate people watching cities in the world. They even devised an institution for people watching, the sidewalk cafe. 

When we travel, we like to stay in an apartment or house in a neighborhood. We think you get more of an understanding of the people and the culture of the place that way. It is usually for about 2 weeks, so the local merchants and your neighbors get to know you and you get to know them. 

These places also have a kitchen and I'm a cook. It would be a crime to not be able to work with the produce, meats, seafood and dairy products in the local markets and shops. That's important to my understanding of a place. Sally is willing to eat what I cook. In Paris, I always manage to procure pastries and chocolates for dessert because we are in Paris. It has some of the best Patisserie in the world. We have taken advantage of that.   

The key to travel is the need to slow down, so you can appreciate everything. There is never going to be enough time in 2 or 3 weeks to see everything and do everything. You need to select a few of the things you would most like to see. Save the rest for another trip. For me it is the same with restaurants, food shops and markets. The joy of Paris is using all your senses, just like the French do. 

Paris is very much a walking city. Sally walks. I saunter. There is so much to see but I need to take my time. The architecture is awe inspiring. From the observation deck on the 56th floor of the Tour Montparnasse, you can see all the sights you will never have time to visit in just 2 to 3 weeks, the Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame... Well you get the idea. 

The shop windows tempt you with all sorts of delights, the Roquefort at Fromagerie Laurent Dubois, the veal at Gardil's Butcher Shop, the fashions at the Chanel store at 31 Rue Cambon, the fresh seafood at Maubert Maree, the kitchen tools in the windows at E. Dehillerin. The Vanves Flea Market and the Marche Monge hold unbelievable treasures.  Original art is inspiring, Xavier Veilhan's bright red Le Rhinoceros at the Centre Pompidou, The Thinker in the garden at Musée Rodin, Picasso's Paul en Arlequin at the Musée Picasso-Paris, the original Vincent van Gogh Nuit Étoilée sur le Rhône at the Musée d'Orsay. 

Of course, there are the unique sights only available in Paris, Notre Dame at night from the Pont de Sully, the rather small la toilette at Le Rubis, the creepy elegance of the tomb of Abelard and Heloise at Pere Lachaise Cemetery...

Then there are the smells of Paris, the perfume scents on the street outside Le Labo, the vanilla-chocolate scent of the chocolate cosmos flowers in the Luxembourg Gardens, the roasted aroma of espresso and the clinging burn smell of cigarette smoke outside of La Brasserie de l'Isle Saint Louis, the yeasty smell of the sourdough loaves at Poilâne at 8 Rue du Cherche Midi, the sometimes unpleasant smells in the Cardinal Lemoine Metro station, the earthy clean crisp fragrance of a walk in the rain on the elevated La Coulée Verte, the heady bouquet as you put your nose in a glass of Domaine La Monardiere Vacqueyras at Juveniles Bistrot A Vins, the sweet aroma of the La Mara des Bois strawberries and the anise fragrance of fresh fennel at the Marche Maubert. the old book smell at Shakespeare and Company, the funky aroma of the Ferme de la Tremblaye Camembert and other cheeses at Androuet Verneuil. Paris is loaded with all kinds of smells.

Aromas of food lead right into the sense of taste, the flakey buttery flavor of the Pain au Chocolat with 2 pieces of Valrhona chocolate at Boulangerie St. Louis, the sweet, sour, bitter notes of the Tarte Paradis at Pierre Herme. There is also the earthy flavors of the Cote d'Agneau at Chez Denise, the nutty brown butter and lemon notes of Sole Meuniere at Chez George, the pungent lushness of the Pont-Eveque cheese from the old man at Fromager B. Lafranc, the tender sweetness of the Cote du Boeuf at Severo with the frites cooked in duck fat, the savory minerality of the Domaine Auguste Clape Cornas at Willi's Wine Bar, the lush richness of the Toast de Foie Gras de Canard at Le Comptoir, the salty ocean flavor of the Fines de Claires at Huitrerie Regis, the crisp and tender flavor of the Duck Confit at Polidor, the warm versus cold crunchiness of the Profiteroles at Cafe Constant where they provide a pitcher of additional warm dark chocolate sauce, the garlicky butter richness of the Escargot at La Rotisserie d'Argent, the spicy succulence of the Filet de Boeuf au Poivre with the Sarawak Peppercorn sauce at Bistrot Paul Bert. Of course there is simple taste of a croissant and a cafe creme early in the morning outside at Le Saint Regis, watching people walking by... I could go on for hours but this is making me hungry.

Then there are the things you hear, the street buskers on the bridge to Notre Dame, cafe chatter at Le Nemrod, the announcements in and on the Metro between the Saint Michel and Saint Placide stations, scooters buzzing and beeping on the Boulevard Saint-Germain, bicycle bells ringing on the Rue de Rennes, tour guide voices at the Louvre, traffic noise on the Champs-Élysées, the bells of Église Saint-Louis-en-l'Île clanging in the chill of early morning, the alternating low-high pitch of police sirens outside the open window of the apartment on the Rue Regis, the tinkling of the water in the Fontaine Saint-Sulpice, market vendors shouting at the Marche Raspail on Tuesday morning, the gentle lapping of the Seine as it flows by the green boxes of the Bouquinistes. There is the loud drunken refrain of a fan of Rick James' Super Freak at 2 am in the apartment next door to you that is also in the building next door so you can't go bang on his door. There is dining outside at the tiny bistro Lescure, listening to the French conversation of two beautiful local young ladies and one of their cell phones goes off with the very American Barry White song Can't Get Enough of Your Love Babe as the ringtone. There are a lot of distinctive Parisian sounds.

Then there are the tactile things, the things we actually feel, the uneven texture of the cobblestones on the Rue Mouffetard, the wetness of the water in the grand bassin in the Luxembourg Garden as you launch your toy sailboat, the feel of the fresh produce at the Marche d'Aligre, the feel of the pages of old books at the bouquinistes along the Seine across from Notre Dame, the feel of the cork as a wine is presented to you at Allard, the coldness of the metal rail as you descend into the Place Monge Metro station, the cool smooth feeling of the bronze The Burghers of Calais in the Musee Rodin gardens, the sense of awe you feel looking at Monet's Water Lilies at the Musee l'Orangerie, the "I could do that" feeling you get looking at Sonia Delaunay's Avec Moi Meme 1970.  

On my last trip things had changed, people die, chefs retire, businesses close for a number of reasons, buildings get remodeled or replaced, food and fashion trends come in and go out. Life goes on. It's a part of that "you can never go home" thing. Change is a part of life. Some people can't accept change. Life doesn't care. Change is going to happen whether you accept it or not. 

The way Paris handles the changes that come with the passage of time was best exemplified in the closing of the 2024 Summer Olympics, when Yseult took the stage at Stade de France and sang "My Way". 

"I've loved, I've laughed and cried

I've had my fill, my share of losing

And now, as tears subside

I find it all so amusing

To think I did all that

And may I say, not in a shy way

Oh, no, oh, no, not me

I did it my way "

Paris has always been unique. That uniqueness has attracted artist, writers, firebrands, musicians and members of all the "Lost Generations". Paris is a very personal city, so full of treasures everyone finds something they love. It is hard to determine which was Paris' Golden Age. Was it the Belle Epoch, the Roaring Twenties, the Renaissance? There have been so many. 

Throughout it all, Paris has always done it her way. The city that has been at the forefront of fashion, food, art, urbanism and cultural influence has always done it in her unique way. That is a good thing.  

Just like Cole Porter, I Love Paris. Paris was a part of the many experiences that have shaped me into the cook and person I am today. It is not the Paris of today that did that, but more the Paris of my first 2 trips. Those trips provide me with the memories I cherish. These memories are a feast that I move around with me. Hemingway was right, "Paris is a moveable feast".  

 

     

Sushi On A Cracker

I have dealt with the public pretty much my whole life. I have waited on tables, tended bar, served as a host in restaurants, cooked in restaurants, owned restaurants, sold wine and liquor products in wholesale and retail environments, taught courses on wine and liquor and taken people on trips to wine growing regions and wineries. Of course I have also moved about in day to day living for almost 75 years.

After my first year out in the working world, I refused to let anything surprize me as to what people will say or do. I have found people to be entertaining, exasperating, endearing, confusing, mean, lovable, pretentious, skeptical, indifferent, inquisitive, conservative, liberal, informed, misinformed, ignorant, knowledgeable, quiet, vocal, introverted, extroverted, altruistic, greedy, opinionated, unbiased, and deceitful. They have said and done just about anything you can imagine and some things you can't. A lot of the negative traits come from overinflated senses of entitlement.   

I have always tried to remember the advice of my first real girlfriend, who is now my wife. She said, "Don't lose your sense of humor. Life sucks without a sense of humor." She was absolutely right. It's difficult sometimes because there are some people who will try your patience. For the most part people are entertaining and good natured, some delightful. 

That is the case with a group of "Florida Crackers" I met one evening. I don't use the term "Florida Cracker" as a derogatory term but as a descriptive one. It is a historical term referring to early settlers and cowboys in Florida. They used whips to drive cattle and the sound of the whip cracking is the origin of that name.  

After I retired from the wine business, Sally and I opened a restaurant called the Crazy Conch Cafe in Tierra Verde, Florida. At Christmas time in 2008 we did a holiday party for a group of 40 employees of one of our good customers. His company had a great year. It was because of the hard work of these employees. He wanted to thank them. In addition to their yearly bonuses, he wanted to do something special.

The Crazy Conch was on an island in the mouth of Tampa Bay. We specialized in seafood and contemporary American cuisine. We had a great view of the Gulf of Mexico and beautiful sunsets. We weren't the most expensive restaurant in our area but we weren't the least expensive either.  

Our customer's business was inland. He manufactured steel products ie. large stainless steel tanks, pressure vessels, rolled steel piping, steel stacks... Well you get the idea. It was a highly specialized product requiring highly specialized labor. His people were paid quite well, but they lived in the central part of the state, mostly rural areas. Their idea of a shit kicking good time and their boss' idea of a shit kicking good time probably were not the same. 

Nevertheless, their boss chose our restaurant for this party and I worked with his engaging assistant to finalize the menu. We determined that a hour long cocktail session would give everyone time to get there and enjoy themselves before the sit-down dinner. During this hour we would pass hors d'oeuvres. One of the items was Ahi Tuna Tartare. It was a favorite of the customer.

The group appeared to be the middle and upper management of this company with their wives or girlfriends. The majority of this group fell into the Florida Cracker description. They had the captivating accent and mannerisms of folks from Central Florida. Florida ranks 9th in the nation in beef cattle production and a few were dressed as if that might be their second job. Anyone who has been in a Tony Lama shop can tell you those boots, hats, and belts are not cheap. In fact they are quite expensive. A few of these gentlemen were showing off. 

The Ahi Tuna Tartare hor d'oeuvre was raw diced tuna tossed in a sauce of soy, sesame oil and rice wine vinegar, topped with avocado and cilantro served on a deep fried corn chip. When the tray got around to one group of the partygoers, one of the men balked at the raw tuna and asked, "What is this?" Before the server could explain, one of his buddies said, "Don't worry man. It's sushi on a cracker." 

The server and the others in his group cracked up, as no one had heard raw tuna described quite like that before. The gentleman definitely put it in terms his buddy could understand. Technically sushi is the Japanese word to describe the vinegared rice that accompanies the raw fish, but there is no need to quibble over that. 

I had been dealing with fresh tuna since my first restaurant the Iron Gate House in Virginia Beach, Virginia. This was back in the the mid 1970's before raw fish, in the form of sushi, sashimi, poke and ceviche became commonplace in American restaurants. 

The tuna I bought and caught was Bluefin from the Atlantic off the Virginia Beach coast. In appearance it was bright red like beef. When cooked it turned white like the stuff that comes in the tins. Of course it tasted a lot better than the canned variety. I always cooked it through, like the rest of the local fish I served. I was completely ignorant as to the delights of raw or lightly seared fish. That would change, just like it did in the rest of the country in the late 70's and early 80's. 

I kept up on food trends through reading and travel. On a trip to New York City at Windows on the World restaurant, I encountered raw tuna for the first time. They had a sushi chef carving raw tuna at a station in the dining room. I tried it in sashimi form and liked it. On a trip to Hawaii, I encountered tuna poke. I tried that and liked it. Raw tuna would soon find a place on my menus. 

I am not, nor profess to be a sushi chef. They know far more than I ever will about fresh fish and how to serve it. The only fish I felt comfortable serving raw or nearly raw was tuna. I knew there were several fish that were unsafe to serve raw like Haddock, Pollock, Mahi-mahi and most freshwater fish. 

Sushi started in Japan as a way to preserve fish in fermented rice. The hand pressed vinegared rice with a slice of seafood on top version started in the 1820's in what is now Tokyo as a fast food for the merchant class. It evolved into the style we know today as a fresh and healthy food source. 

It came to the United States in the Little Tokyo section of Los Angeles in the mid 1960's for mainly Japanese businessmen. It soon attracted a wider clientele. 

The creation of the California Roll in the mid 1970's played a big role in popularizing sushi among Americans. This roll of avocado, cucumber and crab (most times imitation crab) was a more palatable introduction for most Americans. It allowed people a starting point and soon they were more adventuresome. They began trying the raw fish variety and liked it. 

Most sushi aficionados will tell you the key to sushi or any raw fish presentation is extraordinary freshness. The rockstars of sushi have the mystical ability to draw fresh fish from all corners of the globe. All it takes is a willingness to pay for it. It is not cheap.

Due to health concerns and growing demand 50 to 60 percent of all sushi in the United States is frozen at some point in its journey from the sea to your plate. It is extremely rare for a sushi restaurant to tell you that your fish has been frozen. 

In the United States the Food and Drug Administration's regulations stipulate that if fish is to be served raw, as sushi, sashimi, tartare, ceviche or poke, it must be frozen first to kill parasites. This freezing can be anywhere along the supply chain or at the restaurant itself. This makes it a regulation that is virtually impossible to enforce. In fact, the Food and Drug Administration does not do the enforcement. It leaves it to local health departments to do the enforcing. Tuna, a deep-sea fish with exceptionally clean flesh, is the only exception to this regulation.  

Due to seasonality and demand tuna is often frozen too. The American consumer does not want to hear that something is out of season, especially their toro tuna. 

The industry has greatly updated freezing techniques, including "superfreezing" fish at 70 degrees below zero almost before it's dead. It makes a product that is hard to tell from fresh. 

I'm not an expert on fish but I do know fishmongers and charter boat captains, so I know where to get expert advice. A few years ago one fishmonger turned me on to frozen ahi saku. Ahi is the Hawaiian word for yellowfin tuna. Its literal translation is fire, which is what happens to the fishing line when a yellowfin tuna hits, it catches fire. "Saku" is the Japanese word for block and it's that block of tuna you see your sushi chef using to make you sashimi or sushi. He may cut them himself from a tuna loin or he may buy them already cut.

I have caught yellowfin tuna in the Gulf of Mexico. I had the foresight to bring soy sauce and a bit of wasabi, so I have eaten raw tuna as fresh as it is possible to eat. I have also eaten "superfrozen" ahi saku tuna sold to me by my fish merchant. I can't tell the difference. I will tell you that at the price of fuel and the cost of wear and tear on a boat large enough to take you far enough out into the Gulf to catch yellowfin tuna, the frozen ahi saku tuna was a lot cheaper than the freshly caught Gulf yellowfin tuna. 

I have become quite a fan of the frozen ahi tuna saku form of yellowfin tuna. In the restaurants, I spent a lot of time finding a quality supplier of fresh fish. I always wanted the freshest fish possible. The trials and tribulations of finding a quality fresh fish supplier are another story. In my research online and talking with various suppliers and chefs, I found that quite a few top sushi temples in this country and Japan use frozen ahi tuna. I have never used frozen fish other than tuna, not grouper, snapper, salmon, mahi-mahi, pompano, redfish... None other than tuna. 

We typically serve the tuna as tartare, formed on a plate with diced avocado or in a cocktail glass on a bed of lettuce topped with an avocado cream with fresh tortilla chips. We also served it as a sort of Salade Nicoise, lightly seared and sliced with potatoes, haricots verts, olives, hard boiled eggs, tomatoes and vinaigrette dressing. 

In dealing with the public, I have had people complain about pretty much everything in all my restaurants, food, noise level, art on the walls, wine selection, other customers, bottled water, amount of liquor in their drinks, bread, you name it. Some people are never happy unless they are complaining about something. I never had anybody complain about the fish, including the tuna. Well, that's not true. One lady complained her Spicy Blackened Grouper was too spicy. One lady complained her Seafood Gumbo which has fish in it, had too much seafood. Go figure. 

Ahi Tuna Tartare AKA Sushi On A Cracker

1/2 - Cup Rice Wine Vinegar            1 - Tbsp. Wasabi Powder

   3 - Cups Soy Sauce                    1/4 - Cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil   1/4 - Cup Sesame Oil                        Red Pepper Flakes  

   1 - Cup Chiffonade of Romaine    4 - Tbsp. Avocado Cream                8 - Corn Tortillas Quartered      16 - Oz. Diced Ahi Tuna                    Toasted Sesame Seeds

In deep fat fryer fry the tortillas quarters until golden brown, drain on paper towels and season with salt and pepper.   Keep warm.

Combine the vinegar, wasabi, soy sauce, olive oil, and sesame oil in a bowl and stir until well mixed. Refrigerate. It makes about a quart, more than you will need but it will keep in the refrigerator for about two weeks. It makes a great dipping sauce.

Using 4 large cocktail glasses place chiffonade of romaine in the bottom of each. In a bowl toss tuna with the sauce and red pepper flakes to taste.

Place tuna on top of romaine and sprinkle with sesame seeds. Place glasses on a salad plate with paper doily. Arrange chips around the base. Top the tuna with the avocado cream. Or forget the cocktail glasses and place the tuna directly on the chips without the romaine, top with the sesame seeds and a small bit of the avocado cream for Sushi On A Cracker.  

                                        Avocado Cream

6-8 Hass Avocados Pulp               ¼ - Cup Fresh Lime Juice            Salt and Pepper to taste               3 - Oz. Heavy Whipping Cream

In blender process all ingredients well. Cover with film wrap on surface until ready to use. Makes about half a quart of thick puree, more than you will need but it will keep for several days wrapped in the refrigerator. Great with corn chips instead of guacamole. 

 

Beach Music

Music touches us in places where words can't. It has the power to unlock even the most tightly closed heart. Music is a language that everyone can understand. Music has always been a part of me. I'm sure it started with the lullabies of my mother.  

Let me be clear here right at the beginning, I am not musically inclined. I do not play any instrument, I do not write music and when I sing most people ask me to please stop. I like music and can't imagine a world without it. I like all kinds of music, jazz, classical, opera, country, show tunes, rock, reggae, rhythm and blues, soul... I am willing to listen to pretty much anything, at least once. If you listen to the soundtrack of my life, the core is "Beach Music". I'm not talking about the West Coast "Beach Boys" Surf sound, although I like that too. Carolina "Beach Music" is different. This music is: ‘Far Away Places’ by The Embers, ‘My Girl’ by The Temptations, ‘Under the Boardwalk’ by The Drifters and anything by The Tams.

The Tams are the essence of Beach Music. ‘I’ve Been Hurt’, ‘Be Young Be Foolish Be Happy’ and ‘Silly Little Girl’ are classics. The raspy intonations of Joe Pope, the blare of the horns, the deep beat of the drums and the soothing harmony of the backup singers take you to another place. 

So, what the hell is Beach Music? If you ask a lover of Beach Music that question, most would be hard pressed to give you an exact answer. You have a Beach Music group like the Platters, their song "With This Ring" is a top 10 classic of Beach Music. Their best selling hits of "The Great Pretender" and "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" are not Beach Music at all. 

A lot of the top 100 songs of Beach Music were written and recorded nowhere near a Carolina beach, a lot in Motown (Detroit), Los Angeles, Philadelphia, and New York City. The roots of Beach Music start with our old Southern friend Mr. Jim Crow and is closely tied to a dance form called "The Shag". 

In the Southern United States following the Second World War, by virtue of the Jim Crow Laws, Black people and White people were not allowed to listen to the same music, dance in the same places or drink beer in the same bars. In the segregated South, Black performers could not have their music on the radio or on the jukeboxes in White venues. It sounds crazy today, doesn't it. 

Well, young people will be young people. They don't necessarily do exactly what their parents want or necessarily follow the exact letter of the law. They heard Black music and they saw the way Black people danced. And they liked it. Along the Carolina Seaboard there are a lot of beach towns where the rules are a little looser than the ones inland. White companies serviced the jukeboxes in both the White venues and the Black ones. These companies were run by businessmen. Their objective was to have quarters dropping into these machines all the time. To do that most effectively, they need to have records on those machines people wanted to hear. 

Back in the late '40s there was a man in Myrtle Beach, by the name of "Big George" Lineberry. He and a buddy, Malcolm Ray "Chicken" Hicks enjoyed dancing and drinking. They would travel to nearby Seabreeze S.C., a Black community that had a number of "Jump Joints", dancing and drinking establishments. They saw the dancing and heard the music being played. They liked it. It has been hinted that they also picked up some moonshine on these trips but that has never been proven conclusively.

Big George's daytime job was installing records in the coin-operated jukeboxes, at that time called "piccolos", for Southern Amusement Corporation. He was given a White playlist and a Black playlist. At this time Black music was forbidden in the jukeboxes of White establishments. Big George ignored his bosses, Jim Crow laws, and the threat of the Klu Klux Klan and installed the most popular Black records on the jukeboxes in White dance halls and bars. He had lots of encouragement from the young White customers of these venues. 

This music was particularly suited to an emerging dance style called the Shag. The Shag had been around since the mid 40's but not in this slower, smoother, slot-style, 6-step version. Pretty soon the music and dance were in every beach venue from Virginia Beach to Savannah. The young tourist at the beach took this music and dance home with them and introduced it to their friends. Like all things forbidden to young people, the dance and the music spread like wildfire. When asked where they got this music, everyone said "from the beach". So, it became known as Beach Music. 

The Charleston of the 1920's was the start of the Shag. It evolved into the Little Apple. That evolved into "Carolina Jitterbug" during the 1940's. A much slower and no bounce but shuffle Carolina Shag evolved in the late 40's and early 50's as it became ingrained in the "Doo-Wop" sound that is called Beach Music. The moves and the steps of the Shag developed in South Carolina but its name was coined from its popularity in the dance halls of North Carolina. Of course, there has been controversy over which state developed the Shag and Beach Music, but that is not really important. What's important is how it captured the imagination and soul of the youth of North and South Carolina at a time when the political climate considered Black music and dance the devil's brew. 

My first exposure to Beach Music and the Shag was when I went off to college in 1967. I was from a small town north of Richmond, Virginia and went to school at East Carolina University in Greenville, North Carolina. I chose this particular school more because of its ranking in Playboy Magazine as one of the top party schools in the country than its academic reputation. I must tell you I have never regretted that decision. 

The Shag wasn't called the Shag in this part of eastern North Carolina. It was called the "Carolina Bop". I first saw it in Greenville at a bar called The Coach and Four. 

The Coach and Four was a typical college drinking establishment. It had a dance floor with tables and chairs around it. There was a huge bar at one end of the room. They only served beer, 3.2 beer. The bathrooms were in the back and always had a line. The women’s line was longer than the men’s but it’s always that way. I remember standing in the men's line blasted by the room’s roar. There was always a cloud of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. This was when smoking was still acceptable. Back then tobacco was an important crop in North Carolina. In this line there were intriguing aromas of old beer, rancid fryer oil, Chanel No. 5, Canoe aftershave and sweat mixed with urine. This combination is a permanent sensory memory for me.

The entertainment was a jukebox and a drummer. Occasionally there were ladies dancing on the bar. The drummer was on a balcony above the dance floor. He played along with the jukebox. This was a Carolina thing, as I have never seen it anywhere else. It was loud. It wasn't conducive to conversation but, very conducive to drinking beer and dancing the Carolina Bop, my kind of talking.

The Bop looks fairly easy and laid back and it is when you are doing the basic steps. I wanted to get better so during the second quarter of my freshman year I took Social Dancing 101. Yes, East Carolina  had a course in dancing. They taught formal dancing, ie. the waltz, the fox trot, the tango and slow dancing. The last dance of the course was the Carolina Bop. That is what it was called in the course description, the Carolina Bop not the Shag. We learned the Bop to "My Guy" by Mary Wells, the perfect song to learn how to Bop. 

The class consisted of 30 young ladies, some quite charming and 2 guys. The instructor, also a charming young lady, took the 2 guys aside the first day and indicated if we had perfect attendance, we would get an attractive grade no matter how insufficient our talents. We were okay with that.

Over the course of my college career, I had several willing Bop instructors, mostly female but a few guy friends would show me a few of the more complex steps. One who was in ROTC showed me some steps while wearing combat boots. He was quite talented. 

One lady in particular was an expert dancer. I met her at a fraternity social. She was a member of Alpha Xi Delta. They had a sorority house right around the corner from the Kappa Sigma house. She was able to take me to a higher level of competence. I was never as good as she was but I was much better than I was before she took me under her wing. 

You have to realize that most of these young ladies were Carolina Girls, they had been doing the Bop their whole lives. I have been lucky in my life to have encountered several young ladies who took pity on the unenlightened guy from Virginia.

Wherever I went in North Carolina, there was Beach Music and the Carolina Bop. When I went to the Azalea Festival in Wilmington, Beach Music and the Bop were there. In Charlotte, Raleigh, Greensboro, Durham, Asheville, Winston Salem, Wilson, Hickory, Salisbury, and all the small towns along the 3,375 miles coastline of North Carolina there was Beach Music and the Carolina Bop. 

When I went to Nags Head in the Outer Banks, Beach Music and the Bop were there, especially at the Casino. The Casino has to be the most unique place I have danced the Bop and listened to Beach Music. It was built in the 1930's. It was purchased in the 40's by Ras Wescott and was in its heyday in the 50's and 60's. 

It was a two story wooden building with a snack bar, bowling alley, pool tables and pinball machines on the first floor. Upstairs was a huge wooden dance floor that could easily accommodate 1000 people. The floor was polished with the same bowling alley wax they used downstairs. No shoes were allowed, they had to be checked at the door. You danced barefooted. At one end was a stage and at the other was a long bar that always had cold Pabst Blue Ribbon available. 

In the 40's and 50's all the Big Bands played there, Louis Armstrong, Artie Shaw, Woody Herman, Duke Ellington, Count Basie and all the others. In the late 50's and 60's all the Beach Music bands played there, the Coasters, the Tams, the Embers, Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs and all the others. They also had a Wurlitzer Jukebox serviced by someone just like Big George. 

The dance floor was always crowded. Everyone drank beer to stay cool. They had large windows that were always open, with no screens. Some people jumped out of them. Some people were thrown out of them. Ras had a crew of large imposing bouncers to maintain order. He wasn't afraid to use them. I always behaved myself. 

After college, I moved to Virginia Beach and lived for a while with an old fraternity brother. The Bop or the Shag wasn't as predominate here as it was in the Carolinas, but there were certainly lots of young ladies who knew the the dance and appreciated Beach Music. 

I wasn't the only one to move to Virginia Beach from the Carolinas. Big George Lineberry moved too. He was still working for Southern Amusement Corporation. I think he might have been one of the owners. He provided the financial backing for a couple of friends of mine to open a bar called The Shack. I pretty much lived in The Shack my first 3 years at the beach. They didn't have a dance floor but they did have a jukebox with Beach Music and lots of young ladies who were willing to go where there was a dance floor. Most of them knew how to do the Carolina Bop or Shag as it were. 

Beach Music has spread all over the country and even to Europe. The Bop or the Shag has remained a Regional dance form. The Region being North and South Carolina. But unlike other dance forms, it has remained. There are Beach Music and Shag Festivals and contests to this day in Myrtle Beach, Carolina Beach and Wilmington, North Carolina. 

I'm old now and don't Bop any more. But I still love Beach Music. The Classics like "Under the Boardwalk" by the Drifters, "Be Young, Be Foolish, Be Happy" by the Tams, "Ms. Grace" by the Tymes, "Sixty Minute Man" by the Dominoes, "My Girl" by the Temptations, "39-21-40 Shape" by the Showmen, "Hold Back The Night" by the Trammps, "Give Me Just A Little More Time" by Chairman Of The Board, "Ocean Boulevard" by Band Of Oz, and "I Love You 1000 Times" by the Platters are songs that I love. They all remind me of a time when I was young, I was definitely foolish and certainly happy.