Life on Mars............

Kirstin and I were completely exhausted from our boat work. So what should we do? Oh, yeah........we're on vacation for a year. It's cocktail time.

So we go across the bay to the Tiki Bar, aka the town square for the non-sketchy part of the island. Why did we chose that? Well, there are only two options that involve a reasonable chance of personal survival after dark, and Barracuda was performing there.

Who is Barracuda? Well, he looks just like the guy from the Autoland Dealership in New Jersey who sold me a defective Dodge Colt in 1984. Italian looking, overweight, jet-black hair with graying temples.........you know; when your car salesman rubs his hands on his forehead and says he has to talk to the manager.........Barracuda is that manager.

Anyway, he's also an awesome guitar player.........with one unusual flourish. He adds a ten minute guitar solo to every song.............even songs you only hear at weddings.........."Cel-e-brate good times c'mon" is followed by a Jimmy Page-like guitar riff. I know it sounds like it would suck, but in the moment it's actually pretty cool. He's got a sax player from Portugal, a Rasta drummer, and this nervous looking Iranian guy who does his sound.......and gets in the way a lot. Everyone comes out to the Tiki Bar when Barracuda is there......so the people watching is really good.

The winner in terms of weirdness was "Neighborhood Crack Whore". She apparently had too many drugs last night........she's about 5 ft 7, weighs 90 lbs, and dances alone slowly while she points up at the stars. We knew we were in for a treat when we observed her warming up........waving her arms, turning her neck........like she was ready for the uneven bars at the Crack Olympics. She also talks to the sky, when she's not walking up to any man or woman "to chat", or talk business if you know what I mean.

A Rod Stewart look-alike was there too. Kind of a chatty Australian who really likes his beer cheap and his women young.......like 25 years younger than himself. No comment.

There's also this old rasta (at least 70) who stands right next to the speaker. He's dressed like a dumpster-diving Jesus and his ZZ-Top beard and dreds are all completely legit. There was a moment when Neighborhood Crack Whore and the old Rasta looked like they would dance.........if that happens, I think it would tear a hole in the universe or something. They slowly backed away from each other and the space-time continuum was saved.

A lot of weathered looking single-handers there as well. They drink a lot and are usually wearing really old t-shirts that say things like "NY Mets.......1969 World Champions". We're not totally accepted into this group yet because we're driving the Escalade of yachts and have only been at it for under a year. It is fun to say "Yeah, tough day............thought my 3rd refrigerator was broken but I just forgot to turn it on.........shit, everything's new anyway, you know ?"

It's kind of like Cheers. The wait staff all know us and because we're not European or elderly, they also know we leave good tips. Needless to say, if they see our dinghy coming the drinks and pepperoni pizza is ready when we arrive. We like being regulars somewhere.

Back in the water on Monday. More to come.