Viva Mexico!

I got home tonight from Atlanta, the week long Florida beach trip, only to turn around tomorrow at 6 am and head out for Mexico. The Sarge and I are headed for a 5-day all inclusive Mexican getaway.

I am excited to get to speak Spanish full-time again, and to talk to people from other places. Here's to a safe flight and good times.

MARTA

Here I am at the East Lake MARTA station, retracing steps I took last 9 years ago, maybe even 10. From this station to work to school, usually reading, Native Son is the last book I remember finishing on the MARTA.

It's such a drastically different landscape than that of the NYC subway. The trains are free of grafitti. There are t.v. screens you can tune into in 2 languages. Candler Park Station. Inman Park-Reynoldstown.

I am headed to the airport back to New York. On a Sunday at 2 pm the station is empty. Inside, the car is half full. Elevated the whole way until Five Points downtown, you pass the dichotomy of abandoned buildings facing brand new loft apartments. Kudzu and freight cars. The historic cemetery, Grady hospital. What a flashback to the past.

PoFolks!

How I had forgotten about PoFolks. In the car driving through Alabama headed back to Atlanta, a commercial came on the radio, "for a bucket of chicken...just come on down to Po' Folks!" I almost fell over.

So, I'd always thought that PoFolks stood for poor folks. We used to eat there when I was a kid, over twenty years ago now. I never thought it was because we were poor, just that they had home-style country cooking good for families with kids.

There are only 10 locations anymore in Alabama and Florida mostly, although there used to be many more. I'm guessing the po part of the name became stigmatic and bad for business at least in Atlanta. Maybe things don't change quite so quickly in Alabama.

Let the games begin...

I awoke to a rowdier bunch than usual this morning. Apparently, our annual beach Miller Lite marathon has been upped to an Olympic-level competition.

On my first cup of coffee, Nancy, Burt and Beth were on round three of planter's punch. It wasn't even 10 am yet. With the news from the day before and an impending viewing and funeral, the crew had gotten an early start on letting loose.

Joining the game late, I threw my hat in the ring with screwdrivers. By about 1 pm I was screwdriven. And DQed. Put to bed at 2:30 in the afternoon, I made several attempts to re-rally, one including topless sunbathing. Oh the horror. I wonder if they'll make that an event in London 2012.

I awoke to a dark sky and personal haziness. Nancy had taken the gold medal. Burt and Rebecca rounded out the medal contention. I am getting old. What a cheap date I have become. God bless it.

John Belk

We found out today that my friends' cousin, nephew died yesterday in a car crash. Our yearly beach trip interrupted by the worst of the worst--tragedy. John Belk was driving over to a friend's for dinner before going to work, was struck head-on and died. He is survived by his wife and two children. The occupants of the other car fled the scene but have since been captured.

While I did not know him, I have seen how his family has been affected by this and, in his memory, would like to say to those I love who continue to read this, "Love you. Be safe."

Family and friends

So back to another annual family vacation. For the past few years I have joined the Bockmans for a week or so of sun, fun and relaxation on the Emerald Coast, Florida panhandle. I have been adopted of a sort, the baby in yet another family. Three sisters, me the surrogate fourth, Mama and Daddy Bockman, as well as another couple Burt and Nancy, we stay in a big house, cook, laugh and enjoy for a week each year. In this photo is the house we will be in next year.

While being together with people you love may be the most important thing in life, being together in such a beautiful place makes it so much nicer. The more of the world I see, the more I appreciate this little neck of the woods. The sand is like snow, nature preserved. This year we may fall in the path of hurricane season but hopefully all will fair well.

Hygiene

I went to the dentist today, yeehaw! I fear going to a dentist in New York. There are so many up here and an equal number of horror stories. And perhaps silly, but I prefer to go to the same dentist I've had since I've had teeth, Dr. Granade. It's almost to the point that I make a trip back to Atlanta first and foremost to go to the dentist!

His two sons and my brothers are the same age and grew up together. Ever since I was a kid, going to the dentist meant going to visit with friends. And to this day, it still feels that way. So many of us out there dread the six month mark, having to crawl back into the chair, but not me. Granted, I have no cavities (knock wood), so I'm sure that helps. But also, I got to catch up today with the whole crew. It never ceases to shock me how the time passes, how each of us grows up and matures.

Of all the jobs out there, the one I think I would enjoy least is that of a dental hygienist. Digging in people's mouths, I simply could not hang. I'm glad other people take on that path, most likely a thankless job.

If anyone in the ATL needs a great dentist, look up Dr. James A. Granade, Granade & Sanders in Tucker. How's that for a thirty year plus referral!

Airport bars

It's 11:11 am and Ruben at the Fox Sky Box bar in Laguardia airport asks me what I'd like. I order a white Russian. It seems like a good breakfast drink. There's milk, coffee (liquer). And, well, vodka. He responds, "Single? Or Double." It seems only the first part of his response was a question. Wow. Am I that obvious? Or maybe it's not me at all, I keep telling myself. Just airport bars.

Am I wrong or don't you meet the most interesting people in airport bars? The premise clear. I'm here for the moment, want to discuss the world? The parts of it you know, the parts I know. How about politics? What's the vibe in Minneapolis? What about Phoenix? You're able to share anything you want. Organic and free.

So something lovely just happened in that airport bar. I'm not going to say another word about it for fear that I may jinx it. But, people, say a little prayer for Anne!

Keep it real

Somehow it all still doesn't seem real. I'm talking to my girlfriend Rebecca who lives in Atlanta and her cell rings. She answers, "Hey, girl. I'm talking to my girl in New York. Can I call you back?" The girl in New York is me. Even still sometimes I have to pinch myself.

Growth

And...I'm in a hospital. Alla the sudden. It took 30 minutes to find a parking spot. Sad to see, business is good. I'm out on The Island, aka Mutant Island. My girl's girl is having a baby. Her first. She's been in the hospital for 10 hours or so and it looks like it's gone be awhile. I'm in the main lobby and I'm uncomfortable. It's cold. Antiseptic.

The security guard told me I can't drink my coffee in the lobby. So now I'm outside sitting in the grass. And I'm the only one. It's so much prettier out here. I wonder if you could build a hospital like a greenhouse. Granted, you want to keep certain things from growing, but sunshine? It just seems necessary. And health-promoting. I know, I know, Mom. Only with sunblock.

Best of luck to the Mom-to-be!

What's in a day?

Many of you may know, many may not, but it's my birthday. Today.

I'm 32 years old today. And I'm not celebrating. Well, I'm celebrating being alive and being happy. But not my birthday. I've had 32 of these so far and, really, I'm just not feeling it this year.

In the past, birthdays have been whole day events, even month-long festivals of Anne. But this year, I'm keeping it low-pro.

So here's to all of you. Happy day, world. And happy birthday Laura Leathers!