Stacy's Ode to CASA
There's a place we all love: you'd think it's a gift from above. I'll tell you
now, this ain't no jive: the place is Ocean Drive.
There's only one place we'd rather be than the little place we call O.D. Who
are we? you might ask.  I'll tell ya now.  It's an easy task.  We're just
plain people - best of friends who are into something we hope never ends.
We're all from up Chatham County way, and I'll never forget the day we
found something that's really real at a little place called the Scoreboard
grill.
We were looking for something, not quite sure: now we've caught it and
there's no cure.  We've got it bad that's no brag. We love a dance, and it's
called the Shag!
You count to six and move your feet, dance with your partner, don't miss a
beat.  Speaking of your feet, you need special shoes to move to the music -
beach rhythm and blues.
There's even a certain way to hold your hand so you wont spill your beer
all over the band.  Back to O.D., I got off track, times a year, we all go
back.
Once mid-winter, once spring, once fall; there's eight or nine clubs; we hit
them all.  From Fat Harold's to The Spanish Galleon, we're apt ot roam; we
love'em all like our second home.
We close'em down whenever we're there, Oh! I forgot to mention this little
bear,  he's a cute little thing;  His name is Shag.  Fred thinks he's real, but
that's his bag!
We party for four days, we got it made, drinking 11 dollar pitchers of
Electric lemonade.  Buying a picture is for a good cause, share it with
eight friends, each with straws. On Thursday afternoon you might need a
nap 'cause later at harold's someone might fall in your lap.
Shaggin' and drinkin', oyu'll never get bored, and if you're lucky you
can say, "Thank you, Lord!"  All Friday afternoon CASA will toil so we
can all enjoy Shorty's London Broil.  Then again to the clubs to have more
fun Saturday morning we'll still be up to greet the sun.
Some may golf or shop or lay by the pool; hey we need the rest, we're
nobody's fool.  Saturday afternoon, get up off your ass!  there's a party at
Tilghman's courtesy of SASS. The wings are great, the beer is free.  Sass's
pool party is the place to be.
Then off to get ready, get on your khakis.  Saturday night at the clubs,
no room for slackies.  'Member that Lemonade I told you about?  Be fast
with your straw or you might get left out!  We shag and party till the last
song is played, many memories we're making never fade.
Sunday morning we're all there-  the Gospel Hour, 'cause we believe the
shag came from a Higher Power.  Get there early to beat the crowd; the
preacher is great and the choir is loud.  At the final prayer we all feel a
quiver, then it's off to eat oysters at Little River.
We eat too much, but if we survive, one more to Ocean drive.  Goodbye to
Harold, goodbye Duck's, too.  We always stop, we'll never pass through.  
Last stop Judy's for one more CD.  Goodbye Ocean Drive, goodbye O.D.
Now it's time, we must go forth, gas up your cars and all go north, so
that Monday night we can all get our thrill, where for us it really started
- the Scoreboard Grill!
Stacy Plummer, January 2000
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