The unsinkable Graham Gemoets, Galveston.
I love Galveston—it’s such a short drive from Houston but such a world away from the city. My buddy Graham Gemoets has a charming little getaway there near The Strand. With Mother’s passing and as hard as I have been working I felt long overdue for a trip and quality time with a friend. Mr. Gemoets is almost seven feet tall and more outrageous than can be recounted here–he should have his own TV show. Anyway, a Tropical Disturbance, soon to become Tropical Storm Bill, was churning in the Gulf with all spaghetti models projecting a route directly to Houston. But I was damned determined to get out of town, so with one eye on the weather I loaded Delta Dawn into the car along with about a dozen costume changes, picked up Graham, and made tracks toward the island.
I had a few specific goals in mind as I prepared for my trip to the island:
- Relax, let my hair down, and get Mother’s death off my mind for a bit.
- Have a fancy meal.
- Have a cultural experience.
- Select a new book to read.
- Do a drawing of Graham’s Galveston house.
- Come up with a clever blog post based on my trip.
By the time we arrived onto the island I worried that we wouldn’t find a restaurant suitable for a proper cocktail and a decent bite. But a short walk from Graham’s house we happened upon The Saltwater Grill just as the Travis Tritt concert was letting out of The Grand 1894 Opera House across the street.
The Saltwater Grill, Galveston.
Regular readers of TroysArt know that I adore sitting at the corner of a restaurant bar. And luckily there were two seats available at the bar—at the corner! To our left was the most attractive couple, a dashing young plastic surgeon and his beautiful bride; to the right were two couples from Clute, Texas, (and no Graham, that is NOT near Cut & Shoot) on the island to see the Tritt concert. I doubt anyone at the bar knew what there were in for… (Their names are herewith omitted to protect the guilty.)
Graham and I started with Bombay Sapphire gin martinis; and to get sustenance going we ordered Mussels Diablo (mussels steamed with a spicy marinara sauce) and Shallow Fried Asparagus (asparagus breaded asparagus with lump crabmeat with garlic butter)—delicious. Julie the bartender is fantastic, she handled the crowd well and kept the drinks flowing.
Of course conversation amongst the eight new bar buddies quickly degraded to raunch—I couldn’t believe most of what I was hearing. It was probably the most inappropriate dialogue I ever heard in public; absolutely nothing was sacred. When Troy Broussard is the most politically correct and racially sensitive voice in a crowd one can only imagine the abyss of depravity. And of course Graham delighted the audience with his best Graham Gemoets Show!
I was famished so I ordered a full meal. The Apple Cider Salad (mixed greens with candied pecans, Gorganzola cheese, Granny Smith apples in Cider vinaigrette) is delicious; the Sweet Potato Crusted Catfish (fish filet with spinach and andouille cream) wasn’t what I expected but was tasty nonetheless.
Our new friends from Clute ordered us several more rounds of drinks as well as a sampler of every dessert on the menu. The Hot Chocolate Truffle Cake is amaze balls.
I do believe that my experience at The Saltwater Grill was the most fun I’ve ever had at a restaurant. As we left I turned to Graham and said, “Wow, we really stepped in a pile of shit tonight.”
He chuckled and added, “And the night’s not over.”
“Intoxication, like sexual euphoria, is the privilege of the human animal.” – Roman Payne
There is a very old school, off the beaten path bar in Galveston with a swimming pool on the patio—the name of which I will keep to myself—which is where Graham and I headed for nightcaps. On the patio is a large sign that reads “No Nudity – No Drugs – No Sex”, all of which I witnessed within two seconds of entering.
I was also immediately approached by a hooker. After declining the specific activity offered I thought that, with Graham in the pool, I might enjoy the company of said rapscallion. But once money was produced, call it an honorarium or a tip rather than a deposit, the hooker took off like biscuits were burning.
Graham leaned up from the side of the pool and yelled, “You’re the worst prostitute EVER!”
I assume that enough cash had been collected for a fix.
Nevertheless the evening provided plenty of entertainment, the kinetic momentum continuing from dinner into the evening. I enjoyed my cocktails on a lounge chair near the edge of the pool chatting it up with a motely cast of characters; I voyeuristically witnessed a naked couple near the picnic tables (glad there was no picnic happening) engage in every sexual position one could imagine, as if performing the Kama sutra. I felt like Caligula.
“There are no innocent bystanders … what are they doing there in the first place?” William S. Burroughs
The next morning over breakfast at The Star Drug Store all anyone could talk about was the coming storm.
One old timer clutching a newspaper lamented, “Eight to fifteen inches of rain!”
So I began to stew about the weather. And given the recent biblical flooding in Houston with 55,000 houses flooded and 95,000 cars underwater, I felt that I had good reason to worry. While checking the news I saw that Bolivar Peninsula was under an evacuation order—and I got more nervous.
But Graham wasn’t about to leave the island, nor was he keen to let me bug out.
Graham urged me not to pay any attention to the weather. He reasoned that the weather news is not regulated; meaning, if you kill someone the newscaster must always say “alleged murderer” but the weatherman can say whatever he wants, like, “This is a killer storm, prepare to die!”
Graham incredulously chided, “It’s so middle class to worry about the weather.”
As the day wore on I started breaking out with hives and, worse, nervous bowels. I organized my luggage, packed my car, and bid the unsinkable Graham Gemoets adieu.
Shaking his head he asked, “When did Troy Broussard turn into such a little old man?”
“Anyone who says they’re not afraid at the time of a hurricane is either a fool or a liar, or a little bit of both.” Anderson Cooper
Safely back in Houston I gassed up the car and made a dash for the grocery store.
Anyone from Louisiana knows the proper shopping list for a hurricane: cases of wine, vodka, whisky, beer, and mixers, cartons of cigarettes, shotgun shells, batteries, candles, charcoal, bread, boudin, and canned goods. When I visited the grocery store I concentrated on the canned goods; I bought pork & beans, Vienna sausages, Deviled Ham, Campbell’s soup, evaporated milk, peas, corn, French cut green beans, Italian cut green beans, regular green beans, Lima beans, pickled green beans, pickled okra, pickle pickles, and for variety, pickled beets. I am not a canned food eater but in case of emergency I would be. And I figured that once hurricane season has passed us by I will have something better for the yearly Houston Food Bank drive than pumpkin pie filling.
“By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.” Benjamin Franklin
So Tropical Storm Bill passed over Houston with a whimper rather than a bang.
Unfinished drawing of the Gemoets house, Troy Broussard, Galveston, TX.
And unfortunately I only got to spent one night in Galveston. But as to my list of goals I think I did ok:
- With all the excitement on Sunday night I was certainly able to nudge Mother’s passing from the forefront of my mind. Check!
- As stated in my last blog post about Galveston (Troysart – Gung Ho on Galveston) I intended to fine dine at Rudy & Paco’s or Palm’s M&M. But I will count my experience at The Saltwater Grill. Check!
- A cultural experience? Well, it certainly wasn’t a museum or a mansion but what could be more cultural than the naughty swim club? Check!
- I sat out across from Graham’s place a couple times trying to do a drawing but was foiled by intermittent bands of rain—the fingertips of the impending storm. The basics are there but the parts that make my drawings good are missing. Next time in Galveston I will either complete it or start anew. It is not a masterpiece but I did put pencil to paper. Check!
- I returned three books to Graham and asked that he select a new book for me from his library. He highly recommended An Inconvenient Woman by Dominick Dunne; Wikipedia describes it in synopsis as “behind-the-scenes Hollywood intrigue, the underworld of laundered money, illegal drugs, and prostitution, and the foibles of the extremely wealthy and those who serve them” as the background for this novel about murder, abuse of power, and revenge. Check!
- I envisioned writing about a specific event or experience such as I did for the Bishop’s Palace (TroysArt – The Bishop’s Palace), the Rosenberg Library (TroysArt – Galveston’s Rosenberg Library Museum) or Gaido’s (TroysArt – The Great Gaidos Debacle of 2015). But hopefully this will do. Check!