This past Friday, Tim and I went to a concert at
Airlie Gardens (the "Quintessential Southern garden in Wilmington") with our church group known as "The Situation," "The Contemporaries," or "The Aging 20/30s Group Which Now Has 40's In It."
The garden hosts concerts twice a month in the summer. These concerts compete with two other free concerts that also happen on Friday night. One is downtown, where you can buy expensive beer and listen to awesome cover and tribute bands while the sun sets on the Cape Fear River. The other concert is near the movie theater, with blowup castles for kids to bounce around on, and a few other planned activities.
You have to pay to get into Airlie. It's a private garden, after all. And the music is mostly forgettable. But there is something so wonderfully North Carolinian about the experience. If someone wanted to see the Old South's existence in modern days, these concerts would be the place to spot it.
You had to ride a trolley to get there. People brought tables and tablecloths for their picnics. They brought expensive wines and cheese and fruits to picnic on. People drank their wine out of glass goblets. Women wore dresses, and children ran around in sun hats. Everyone made the rounds, socializing with the neighbors they spotted around the tree, or they networked in the one area reserved for First Citizen Bank's customers. The whole field was full of people, and you could smell the gentle salt breeze from the cove beside the gardens. If you were to walk around the gardens, you might see an alligator or ibis or some other fantastic coastal or southern animal.
Our group was no so sophisticated. Some of us wore dresses, but we sliced our cheese on the cooler lid and passed it around with a bag of pretzels. We bought frozen ice that turned our teeth red. After it was over, some of us went to eat at a Mexican restaurant.
And really, I prefer the downtown concerts. But I've lived in the South my whole life and never felt quite the environment I did at Airlie. For a few seconds, it made me nostalgic for old Savannah (a time I've never experience). It's funny how moving away from a place can do that to you.
