Big City Streets

Empire State South did not disappoint my wife had was curious to try a restaurant that had made headlines in her reading lists. Run by a Canadian émigré Hugh Acheson has also appeared on television, the medium that provokes comment. So rather than speculate we made Atlanta our goal after socially isolated Thanksgiving plans in Pensacola fell apart. 

I am a man of a feeble palate and I could blame my many years spent at Hogwarts, typical English boarding schools with dubious menus, but I suspect it is simply a defect in my genes. Nevertheless we ate oddly flavorful fried rice, stewed chicken pieces on toast, trout and of course every schoolboy's favorite (where I grew up): trifle in a mason jar. Because of things being the way they are I had to drive through the rain to collect the food in a  touchless transaction which we ate in our bright and cheerful hotel room in a celebration only vaguely reminiscent of Thanksgiving which we celebrated more properly in the woods later. The next morning dawned cool and clear, after the rain and naturally my little brown terrorist was keen to see the world outside.

Leash? Check. Umbrella? Check. Winter vest? Check. Irritation? Left at the pre-dawn door. I actually also left my camera behind which ended up being a stupid choice as the rain stopped the instant I stepped out and to my irritation I had to use my iPhone 8 which for me is not an an enjoyable photographic tool. I know phones are improving by leaps and bounds but I have fun with buttons and dials and making things look the way I want them to look and phones have an unnerving ability to render everything the exact way we see the world. And yes I did find the bottle of hand sanitizer on the rental scooter quite fascinating.

The city was empty of course, like a slow Sunday morning even though it was Thursday, Turkey Day, and we walked an Atlanta fast asleep.

I had no idea what I was looking at when the name of the Italian poet appeared through the sparse tree cover. Wikipedia to the rescue! It appears the Scottish industrialist has left his mark here as well, which is hardly surprising.

The Carnegie Education Pavilion, more often known as the Carnegie Monument, is a marble Beaux-Arts monument located in Atlanta, Georgia. The pavilion was constructed in 1996 from the exterior façade of the Carnegie Library, named after Andrew Carnegie. The monument pays homage to the legacy of Carnegie by serving as a monument to higher education in Atlanta, with the seals of nine local area colleges and universities embedded in the floor of the monument. The monument was commissioned in 1996 by the Corporation for Olympic Development in Atlanta and designed by Henri Jova. The pavilion is located in Downtown's Hardy Ivy Park, at the curve in Peachtree Street where it diverges with West Peachtree Street. The monument's inscription reads: "The Advancement of Learning." It also features the inscriptions of the names of three famous Western poets "Dante", "Milton", and "Aesop", in addition to the library's namesake, "Carnegie".

I guess I walked around a bit with my head in the air, noticing the tall leading lines pointing to the sky and in among those leading lines a few closed circuit cameras monitoring my movements. I wonder who gets paid to watch, my jaded 911 view is that the footage is only ever viewed if something actually happens. I love Rusty but I can't imagine watching him being walked is of much interest to a bored insecurity guard.

Georgia Peaches. They make it seems as though this is all there is in the Peach Tree State.

Florida is the sunshine state and when we finally got to drive south again the dark cloudy skies indeed did open up over Valdosta and gave way to 80 degrees and sunshine at the Florida Stateline. I have found that to be true over the decades and even now I think of those huddled homeless figures chilled in the granite caverns of downtown Atlanta.

I was missing my camera but I found shapes and lights and angles to capture my interest.

"A vision of w hotels." I have no idea what that means and I frankly couldn't be bothered to Google one more corporate slogan. Now you know, feel free to have a go if you want to decipher some fresh marketing gobbledygook. It juts looked like another monumental hotel with funny random lighting.

Rusty did not like these scooters dumped on the sidewalks of steep Atlanta streets. They have apps apparently and each brand offers a quick easy ride, pick it up and abandon it as needed. The wheels are locked when not in use and the battery makes them heavy. I know this as their random parking gave my differently abled dog fits and at one point he spotted a scooter across the wooded sidewalk and refused to advance. I unleashed him and he sat and nervously watched me approach the ambush, only running up to me after I showed him the scooter was harmless and quite possibly deceased as it did not leap out at me as I walked past. 

The pile of fake books on the other hand didn't bother him a bit. I fear my dog may be illiterate.

I remember when Atlanta was defined by Cocoa Cola and CNN. I actually thought of applying to CNN for a job after a  friend was accepted as a news intern. She loved Atlanta in 1990 but common sense struck me in the head after I realized I despised TV, so I went sailing to the Bahamas instead.

I-75 South, home of anti-abortion billboards, confederate battle flags and strip club advertising, all pointing towards Florida and sunshine and the warm embrace of oranges and unreality and alligators. Home!

Atlanta Streets

Getting home from a trip even a van trip requires some adjustment, some time to vacuum the dog hairs, wipe the dead insects off the hood, empty the porta potty (my job) and clear out the van refrigerator (not at the same time) and run the laundry with several loads...and on and on as the reality of back to work takes hold. Our turn around point on the trip was Atlanta and i have to say that was a rather shocking experience to this small town rube. I remember Atlanta as a bustling hub, a symbol of the "New South" industrious modern and integrated. My short stop in the big city was rather different experience and i was shocked in my own provincial way.

As much as one might like to deny it there is a slight sense of being removed from daily reality when one lives in the Keys. Certainly you feel the difference driving through rural America, and a lot of that is quite pleasant if you assume the job losses and medical bills are hidden behind closed doors, but the effects of business closure and failing services becomes stark and obvious in a city where downtown is the gathering place for homeless people and not much else.

We had thought of parking eating and sleeping on the streets but as a pre-Thanksgiving celebration it just didn't feel like much so we used points and took a room at the inn. It was a decision easy to make and it felt as though we had the hotel to ourselves. Certainly the van had the pick of the parking spots. Layne sorted the room and I walked Rusty. Our plan was to order a sort of Thanksgiving dinner from Empire State South a restaurant my wife was keen to try and she was, as usual, right.

Almost everyone I saw who appeared housed and employed was wearing a  mask so I wore mine even though I was pretty much alone. Most of the homeless were black men huddled in doorways avoiding the sprinkles and the cold air which suddenly struck me as cold and wintery. At last I wasn't sweating!

I'm sure on a  sunny day with office workers bustling about downtown would look different  but the city for my brief visit looked defeated by the virus. It was an odd feeling at a time when one is supposed to be thankful. The news from Key West was a mixture of fatal accidents on Highway One and family reports on the struggles of the county commissioner, his wife and daughter, to survive the coronavirus which had laid them low. I saw a lot of prayers offered on Facebook for their recovery but I recall my time in the hospital as a period of much gratitude to the nursing staff who looked after me and I wasn't even infectious. I cannot imagine a hospital ward these days with so many sick, no visitors and the need for universal protective gear. At last report Key West had no available ICU beds available.

I did manage to cheer myself up by getting Rusty to pose with a suitable piece of public art. 

Closed and boarded up. 

This was supposed to be another Rusty pose looking regal  but I found myself accidentally capturing a slice of street life which summed up my rather un-Thanksgiving feelings. I couldn't even frame the picture properly.

All I could think of was the weird bomber story and the security guard who got arrested in some muddled up investigation and a movie Clint Eastwood made..? I/m sure Google has the answers to my muddled train of thought but I focused on following my dog pas the Olympic Park. I did notice how steep Atlanta is, as though built on some very sharp hills set close to one another. We walked up and down a lot.

The American Cancer Society seems to be doing well with a vast spacious shiny building:

Their message was a reminder that colo-rectal cancer is painful and preventable- if you can afford it. Not a day goes by that I don't appreciate my health insurance. Colonoscopies not so much but at least I don't have to do them, just suffer through them once in a  while.

I think I should like to go back to Atlanta in happier times under sunnier skies and get a proper feel for a city that left me feeling excessively grateful that I don't live there. I preferred sweating to unload the van in the familiar heat of the Florida Keys to walking briskly in the cool winter air of a city that gave me a mild case of the blues.

Atlanta, Georgia

It was apparent our trip was coming to an end as we were turned toward home at last, first east then south. As we left Birmingham we promptly got stuck in a monstrous traffic jam on the freeway into Atlanta though it was mostly idiots pausing to stare at some poor unfortunate who wrecked, thus holding us all up. Eventually the I-20 parking lot released it's grip and we rolled into the city, home to Coca Cola and CNN. I must say every time I get stuck I traffic I appreciate a water cooled engine and an air conditioning cooled interior as we sit and watch motorcyclists stuck in line unable to lane split to get ahead.

Atlanta is Atlanta and you either like big cities or you don't. I love the HOV lane on I-75 through the city, as it also allows motorcycles and it cuts down the log jam of traffic. I've visited Atlanta and its suburbs in a previous life, a friend lived in a brick house in a leafy suburban street and I got a tour of the city. It is everything a city should be and if you like that sort of thing it will do nicely I'm sure, modern and sophisticated and full of energy. My wife and I had a goal which was annoying while we were stuck in traffic but I got my wife to the classroom with twenty minutes to spare. Her iPhone GPS and my driving- a fearsome urban combination!

The Viking school is an offshoot of a corporation that makes kitchen equipment apparently and they have schools all over the place. We actually got the idea from a travel magazine and my wife was very enthusiastic so this stop in Atlanta was our final goal. I dropped her off and being as how I am the bottle washer in our family, and kitchen ant killer, Cheyenne and I buggered off to find dinner and the La Quinta which my phone said was twenty minutes away. Far by Key West standards, close in Atlanta, a city where even cyclists apparently wait patiently (and insanely) in line...

The traffic jam had one good outcome. While stopped I got a text message asking if I was interested in overtime...anyway we got into conversation among the night dispatchers and when he learned where I was, Fred who knows everything gastronomical, had a dinner suggestion. He claimed they had the best chicken and pancakes in the South....so when my phone told me they were but ten minutes away what could I do?

Gladys Knight & Ron's Chicken and Waffles Restaurant Downtown Atlanta Famous Southern Soul Food Restaurant Open Late is quite a mouthful, but this stop filled a cultural void for me. I'd never heard of the soul singer and certainly I had no idea she liked chicken and waffles, the relatively new food fad. Many others apparently have heard of the place and they lined up to get in. Cheyenne ended up in the line of photography fire.

I don't know if I was there early or what but there was no line to speak of and they promised my food in ten minutes, which gave me time to walk Cheyenne round the block. Apparently at popular times the wait can last two hours, and call me shallow but I think that's insane to wait for food that long.

The food was fine but there's only so much you can do with the ingredients. I once suggested to my wife we make chicken and waffles my way, my first culinary suggestion to my wife who likes to cook. I said lets buy some Dions chicken and get some frozen waffles as a) we don't have a waffle maker and b) waffles are pretty much waffles outside of Belgium (I guess). And you know what? They didn't taste like these chicken wings fried in cornmeal (I think that's what they were), but we did fine with "my" waffles and chicken at home in the Keys. The hunt, as in so many things, was the fun in Atlanta and I enjoyed tracking the place down. My other alternative was a solo dinner with a sandwich from Publix next to the hotel.

I don't habitually travel with a weapon, who does? And my pants weren't sagging so food pick up went uneventfully. The parking instructions were too complicated for me so I parked on the street.

For Cheyenne dinner was just another opportunity to check out the scene which she did.

Meanwhile back at the Viking cooking school my wife was studying how to deal with fish. Cooking Classes Atlanta | Cooking Classes Nashville | Viking To Go

She sent me this picture remarking how some husbands were attending class with their wives. Hmm, I know I don't have the patience to cook but I do enjoy washing up.

Apparently the class was worth it. Of course the food was not allowed to leave the premises, liability or one of those obscure corporate lines of reasoning, so we can only guess how the students did. It looked pretty good to me and she enjoyed it while she learned some tricks new to her.

A stray Atlanta cat. Not impressed by Cheyenne. I wish I had a home for every animal.

But this is the only one I get to torture this time around. She was ready to be done with the car.

We got home close to midnight, driving the Keys when all the good tourists were tucked up in bars drinking, or in bed asleep, leaving Ighway One wide open. It was a thirteen hour day but well worth it to avoid the weekend jams on the only reading the Keys. A fitting end to an excellent road trip.

 

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