No Spirit Fingers, from the Watt's notes.

"You can learn a lot about waves – and about yourself – when you have no choice but to surf tiny waves on a regular basis. Small waves are not fun. In fact, if you are a shortboarder, they can mean extended bouts of sulking, frustration, passive aggressive behavior, and even outright despair."    -Bradley Hook

Spirit lacking, despairingly small swell. 47th Street Break, 2/15/2020.

   Mid-February and the weather has continued to be without spirit. Yep, that is about the only way I could describe it...without spirit...no commitment to the cold of winter or giving in to the warmth of spring. We've had no major storms events; rain, snow or otherwise. Locals have been calling it mild. Target has called it miserable which to him means anytime in the winter, below fifty degrees. Myself, I wouldn't have minded a small snow event and then on to Spring. Something to break the monotony. Even the surf seems to have suffered. Mostly knee high or less, I saw a couple of surfers out there making the attempt over the weekend, but the breakers weren't generating enough power to string
together more than a couple half-hearted runs. No spirit fingers here. It would've been frustrating no matter the water temp. It is this lack of spirit that turns us inward, inland, inside.
   Our most recent inland venture was downtown Salisbury's Roadie Joe's. Located in the heart of the Downtown Plaza, we ended up meeting Target in the south parking lot, his arrival ahead of us by about 2 minutes (and.of course, he let us know). Upon entering there was already a card game of sorts going on. I think for some kind of charity event.

 Working our way through a bit of a winding trail, we made our way to the back end of the bar passing by a lone musician plying his trade, and not doin' too bad a job with a combo of 70s, 80s, and 90s music. With a fairly nice selection of  brews, Target and I got the three of us set up while LWatt perused the menu. The crafts came out cold, but the glass while sprayed, was not chilled. From the menu we dove into Joe's Blackened Shrimp Tacos special, Old Bay Wings, and a continued foray into Mac 'n Cheese, this dish with Barbecued Pulled Pork on top. All three dishes looked very good when served but let's face it, the real spirit of the preparation comes out in the taste.

The shrimp tacos had great presentation, plenty of shrimp, and smelled tasty, but they could've been warmer. The wings were plump and juicy, but lacked size as well as full Old Bay coverage and thus the zing. The pasta? Well, the BBQ Mac n Cheese was the star. Topped with barbecued pork in a chipotle sauce, bacon, and crispy onions, the meaty, BBQ saucy, cheesy, golden ringlets exploded spirit. The words of Sparky Polastri echoed, "THESE...are spirit fingers!"

As we bounced between each dish we found this to be one of those meals that was very filling. While not all exuded the same amount of spirit (and believe me some of us, like Sparky himself, are very hard to convince), each was savory and appetizing in it's own right. The bar filled and we slowed, as did our musician somewhat. Therefore, it was logical that we took his break as the our queue to exit, stage left. Paying our slightly hefty tab...the brews were a hair heavy- in cost...we explored the rest of the Downtown Plaza Building, and headed out into the night. Spirits up, the hour getting late, we didn't quite commit to our next tavern of diversion. Myself, I had a business trip coming up, so what was next remained to be seen. A week or two or three. But, the Quest always has a next.

Roadie Joe's. Downtown Salisbury, 2/13/2020.
THE RATINGS-
Blackened Shrimp Tacos: B
Old Bay Wings: B-
BBQ Mac 'n Cheese: A-
Beer: B
Atmosphere: B-
Value: C+
Overall Score = 2.92

Just An Illusion, in the words of the Target

Warm and inviting; clean barrels ready for the slicing. Or, the frigid waters of a shin-high beachbreak?
 The illusion of winter swell. Malibu Beach pic, 2/2/2020

But don't be fooled by the radio

The TV or the magazines

They show you photographs of how your life should be

But they're just someone else's fantasy

So if you think your life is complete confusion

Because your neighbors got it made

Just remember that it's a Grand Illusion

And deep inside we're all the same.

We're all the same...

-Styx

   We are in the cold, lifeless, grasp of winter. Fall is a memory and spring is just a hope for the future. Warm sandy beaches are an illusion in my mind. Ocean water temps hover near 40F degrees. A day here and a day there of any kind of swell. The weather can't seem to decide on rain or sun, so we keep the clouds around. If you haven't realized it yet, I dislike winter. Though we have had a very mild offseason so far (no snow), nothing has escaped it's chilly, drab existence. As usual, I was in route making great time to this evening's destination when suddenly my phone rang, breaking my concentration. It was Wattman, claiming to be early and waiting on me. This was a grand illusion. Upon arrival there was NO evidence of the Watts. I walked inside and still no sign. I was forced to call and ask their whereabouts. Watt claimed he had been waiting in the parking lot and in a few seconds they appeared. Another illusion? I could not help but ponder, "After the tide rolls in, where does it go when it slips out? Can you really hear corn grow?" and of course the most obvious as it related to the moment, "If you are not at the the front door or inside the tavern waiting, are you really on time?" Things that made me go, "hmmmm."

   This week's locale of choice was Boxcar 40 in Pittsville, MD. A transmutation of a previous establishment Watt and I had dropped in on many moons ago and now under new ownership, it was a bit more agrarian than the previous week's stint. Despite of the illusion of someplace new, and as with many of such situations we had come upon in the past, the setup and look remained basically unchanged. I guess there's not much you can do with an old fire house. Regardless, the place had a nice presentation. The bar was the same very small corner I remembered, and full. So, we took up habitation at a table. Service response was speedy, and soon we had our beverages in front of us. I ordered my usual Miller Lite and Watt, his local brew.

The beers were a little off. I for one, was offered no glass (like I was in a dive bar or something). Wattman didn't seem thrilled with his either. Our menu choices tonight started with the Crabby Pretzel, an LWatt favorite. More or less a soft pretzel with overly cheesy crab dip on the side, the cheese seemed to hide the flavor of the crab. Next were the BBQ Wings. Nice tang in the sauce, and if the large chicken wings had been served warmer they would have been the hit of the night. However, it was the Boxcar Burger (which was the night's special) that was our top choice. With bacon added, it was juicy and cooked the way we liked, medium-well. Then we got the tab. A little off the billing charts to charge three bucks for bacon. In fact, the entire tab was a little pricey and that was no illusion. Not really a bar, Boxcar was more of a small town locals eatery. For most in Pittsville, I am sure within walking distance, it was more a restaurant to get a nice meal in a friendly environment without driving forever. Thus the lack of TVs and music that we could barely hear. Quaint and clean, yes, but worthy of a near time return engagement? I doubt it. So the Crew headed out into the night, the next in our Wicomico Quest yet to come.

Boxcar 40 American Eats, 1/30/2020
THE RATINGS-

Crabby Pretzel: C

Barbecue Wings: B-

Boxcar Bacon Burger: B

Beer: C

Atmosphere: C

Value: C

Overall Score = 2.29