To sleep is to dream

I awoke this morning to something new. A chill in the air that made me want to stay put. To snuggle into the covers and relax. To wrap up in a cocoon. A feeling of comfort and excitement for what the winter is to hold. Having such little winter in Atlanta, I fell in love with New York's the first I spent here. And today, it was a rekindling of that New York City spirit. Anything is possible, your dreams all possible.

On a plane

Have I mentioned that I love traveling? It doesn't matter where, just take me away. I've been looking back on photos I've taken and think I'm going to do an airplane series. Maybe in Japan?? Turns out I take more photos in flight than on the ground. And maybe, just maybe it'll be interesting for people other than me.

Random notes from Playa del Carmen

We are staying at a resort, all-inclusive, quite nice for my usual standards for travel housing, amenities. And here are a few tidbits from the first few days.

1. There are ashtrays on the toilet paper roll holders just in case you have to use both hands.
2. Take a gypsy cab from the airport and pay half price.
3. Never take the elevators. That's where the mosquitoes lay in wait.
4. Enano is the word midget in Spanish.

More later.

More travel

We touched down in the Cancun airport today, headed south to Playa del Carmen. In a taxi cab, our driver asked if we wanted to stop at the 7-11 for some beer. Ha. As though that were even a question. And how funny. Who'd have expected a 7-11 on the side of the road?

I love traveling. It doesn't matter where, when. Just absorb me in something new and different.

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.