From Richmond we drove to Jonathan’s home in Maryland, but it seems that Jim and I were not ready to settle into relaxing at our friends' home, so we had him drop us off at the Metro and made our way to Washington D.C. to get a couple of drinks. As I remember it, Jonathan was supposed to pick us up around 12:00 am or so, but passed out from a long drive home. Thus, 12 turned into 2 am! I had to be up and ready to go by five so I could make my flight in Baltimore at 6:15 am. Suffice it to say, I was groggy, and had hot-eyes from the lack of sleep.
Jonathan’s wife graciously agreed to wake her and the kids up early to take me to the airport. We were running late and got lost for a brief minute but I made it on time with a couple minutes to get through all the security hassles and onto my plane. I was exasperated and out of breath by the time I made it to my terminal, but I made it and on time! The only problem was that the crew didn't. I mean I was there, the other passengers were there, and the plane was there…but there was no crew to fly the damn thing. Apparently, whoever puts these flights together forgot to tell the crew they had to fly out in the morning! So the crew, I take it, did what I did the night before and checked out DC after dark.
So there I sat on the ground waiting for two hours for someone, anyone to fly me home. Finally, a groggy hot-eyed crew showed up to take me to Atlanta. This in itself was another problem, because I missed my lay over flight by 45 minutes! So now I had to shuffle my schedule around and try I find another flight home…along with all the other passengers. Luckily, I managed to get one of the last tickets on a flight to Orange County eight hours later. The help desk in Baltimore told me once I got to Atlanta I could finagle a better ticket. This was not the case! After arriving in Atlanta the help desk lady scoffed at this assertion (Note: Atlanta does not offer Southern Hospitality at their airport)! She said even if this was the case and it was certainly not, that there were no other flights! I told her I would take anything, it didn’t have to be posh OC, I could go to the Ghetto of LA or stretch it out to Long Beach, I could even go to Ontario if she would let me! I tried to tell her this wasn’t my fault, her company was sleeping on the job. I wouldn’t mind taking another flight with another airline (actually I would prefer it!). But there were no flights! Everything, every airline was full! I would have to wait eight hours to go home.
When we had passed through Atlanta on our trip, I lamented how this was one city I would have liked to seen more of on the expedition and one day I would return. I never dreamed my return would be two days later! So, I was stuck in an airport in Atlanta for eight hours. I couldn’t believe that I could be back in the city again and not be able to check it out because I was stuck in the airport! So, I resolved to go out and explore. I found an old man who was working at the airport to direct me on how to get to anywhere that was safe and had something decent to eat. As luck would have it, Atlanta is not as backwards as their airline hostesses would allow you to believe. They actually have a metro that will take you from the airport to the downtown area. The old man pointed the way and told me what stop to get off to get a nice bite to eat at Hooters.
So off I went to explore. I found my stop and found Hooters. However, my wife hates the whole concept of Hooters, so even on an empty stomach I declined the delightful smells protruding from the eatery. I just figured if there was one place to eat in the area then there should be more, I was right but none of them looked appetizing. So, I continued to walk and found Olympic park. Nice place. A Beautiful open area with lots of sculptures. I then went to the Coke Museum. I thought about going in but at $15 bucks a pop (pun intended) to walk through, and I was down to my last $40-50 dollars, it wasn’t worth it. I mean, Hey! If it was Pepsi it would be a whole different story, but this was Cocoa Cola, what’s the big deal? So I simply opted for a Photo Op with an old style Coke bottle with the facility behind me.
What made me really like Atlanta was a small piece of ground near a freeway exit that was used as a homeless hang-out and littered with trash, it was a little area dedicated to Folk Art. Very cool sculptures that can’t help but to bring a smile to your face.
Speaking of which, I met a few folks while on my walk around the town. One gentleman walked up to me and asked me if I was racist. I thought of telling him, “Of course not, I deplore Lincoln.” But didn’t think he would get the humor so I just opted to dispel any fears that he might have of whitey walking around his town and affirmed that I was not in fact a racialist. He apparently wasn’t buying my pathetic attempt at being politically correct. He indeed wanted proof, by helping a poor black fellow out and giving him some of my change. He was disheartened when I told him that he probably already had more change in his pockets than I did.
I then met another pleasant man while walking around. He came up to me to... well, just to talk I suppose. He too was a homeless man wearing not so much a gruff beard as it was a chin strap. He was quite pleasant and I suspected any minute he would pull a switchblade and rob me of my last remaining cash. He had noticed my Dodgers hat and began talking baseball and Basketball with me. In fact, I was quite startled by how much he knew about sports, especially Los Angeles Sports and he was quite shocked I was not a Lakers Fan! We kept up our delightful conversation and I assumed he was just waiting for the right moment to shank me, when he looked up and commented on the gray clouds looming in the distance. I looked up to politely agree, when my jaw dropped to the ground and my startled body froze at the sight. It was summer and had been quite humidly hot in the Big A, so what I was gazing into was not computing into my southern Californian brain. These were not gray clouds or even dark clouds for that matter. This was the abyss opening up. It looked much more like the nothingness in the Never Ending Story. My heart sank as I remember the torrential down pour we had to navigate driving through on our first trip. So, I immediately said my good-byes and departed in haste, running to get back to the metro before I was swept away by an Atlanta flood. I couldn’t believe how swift the storm was upon my heels. As I came upon the last city block the rain began to pour. I decided at that moment that I had had my fill of the city and headed back to the airport for the last hour and a half.
There was plenty I missed; I had really set my heart on going to Stone Mountain to see the confederate leaders carved into the side of the mountain. I also wanted to eat lunch at Richard Blaise’s restaurant, but seeing that I wasn’t planning on walking around the city, I was completely underdressed and a little smelly. I also found out later that they have a muppet museum where they have the Dark Crystal Puppets on display; that would have been worth seeing. Maybe, my next trip across country, I’ll get stuck again and can see all the sights I missed.
Overall, it was a pretty good trip.
Jonathan’s wife graciously agreed to wake her and the kids up early to take me to the airport. We were running late and got lost for a brief minute but I made it on time with a couple minutes to get through all the security hassles and onto my plane. I was exasperated and out of breath by the time I made it to my terminal, but I made it and on time! The only problem was that the crew didn't. I mean I was there, the other passengers were there, and the plane was there…but there was no crew to fly the damn thing. Apparently, whoever puts these flights together forgot to tell the crew they had to fly out in the morning! So the crew, I take it, did what I did the night before and checked out DC after dark.
So there I sat on the ground waiting for two hours for someone, anyone to fly me home. Finally, a groggy hot-eyed crew showed up to take me to Atlanta. This in itself was another problem, because I missed my lay over flight by 45 minutes! So now I had to shuffle my schedule around and try I find another flight home…along with all the other passengers. Luckily, I managed to get one of the last tickets on a flight to Orange County eight hours later. The help desk in Baltimore told me once I got to Atlanta I could finagle a better ticket. This was not the case! After arriving in Atlanta the help desk lady scoffed at this assertion (Note: Atlanta does not offer Southern Hospitality at their airport)! She said even if this was the case and it was certainly not, that there were no other flights! I told her I would take anything, it didn’t have to be posh OC, I could go to the Ghetto of LA or stretch it out to Long Beach, I could even go to Ontario if she would let me! I tried to tell her this wasn’t my fault, her company was sleeping on the job. I wouldn’t mind taking another flight with another airline (actually I would prefer it!). But there were no flights! Everything, every airline was full! I would have to wait eight hours to go home.
When we had passed through Atlanta on our trip, I lamented how this was one city I would have liked to seen more of on the expedition and one day I would return. I never dreamed my return would be two days later! So, I was stuck in an airport in Atlanta for eight hours. I couldn’t believe that I could be back in the city again and not be able to check it out because I was stuck in the airport! So, I resolved to go out and explore. I found an old man who was working at the airport to direct me on how to get to anywhere that was safe and had something decent to eat. As luck would have it, Atlanta is not as backwards as their airline hostesses would allow you to believe. They actually have a metro that will take you from the airport to the downtown area. The old man pointed the way and told me what stop to get off to get a nice bite to eat at Hooters.
So off I went to explore. I found my stop and found Hooters. However, my wife hates the whole concept of Hooters, so even on an empty stomach I declined the delightful smells protruding from the eatery. I just figured if there was one place to eat in the area then there should be more, I was right but none of them looked appetizing. So, I continued to walk and found Olympic park. Nice place. A Beautiful open area with lots of sculptures. I then went to the Coke Museum. I thought about going in but at $15 bucks a pop (pun intended) to walk through, and I was down to my last $40-50 dollars, it wasn’t worth it. I mean, Hey! If it was Pepsi it would be a whole different story, but this was Cocoa Cola, what’s the big deal? So I simply opted for a Photo Op with an old style Coke bottle with the facility behind me.
What made me really like Atlanta was a small piece of ground near a freeway exit that was used as a homeless hang-out and littered with trash, it was a little area dedicated to Folk Art. Very cool sculptures that can’t help but to bring a smile to your face.
Speaking of which, I met a few folks while on my walk around the town. One gentleman walked up to me and asked me if I was racist. I thought of telling him, “Of course not, I deplore Lincoln.” But didn’t think he would get the humor so I just opted to dispel any fears that he might have of whitey walking around his town and affirmed that I was not in fact a racialist. He apparently wasn’t buying my pathetic attempt at being politically correct. He indeed wanted proof, by helping a poor black fellow out and giving him some of my change. He was disheartened when I told him that he probably already had more change in his pockets than I did.
I then met another pleasant man while walking around. He came up to me to... well, just to talk I suppose. He too was a homeless man wearing not so much a gruff beard as it was a chin strap. He was quite pleasant and I suspected any minute he would pull a switchblade and rob me of my last remaining cash. He had noticed my Dodgers hat and began talking baseball and Basketball with me. In fact, I was quite startled by how much he knew about sports, especially Los Angeles Sports and he was quite shocked I was not a Lakers Fan! We kept up our delightful conversation and I assumed he was just waiting for the right moment to shank me, when he looked up and commented on the gray clouds looming in the distance. I looked up to politely agree, when my jaw dropped to the ground and my startled body froze at the sight. It was summer and had been quite humidly hot in the Big A, so what I was gazing into was not computing into my southern Californian brain. These were not gray clouds or even dark clouds for that matter. This was the abyss opening up. It looked much more like the nothingness in the Never Ending Story. My heart sank as I remember the torrential down pour we had to navigate driving through on our first trip. So, I immediately said my good-byes and departed in haste, running to get back to the metro before I was swept away by an Atlanta flood. I couldn’t believe how swift the storm was upon my heels. As I came upon the last city block the rain began to pour. I decided at that moment that I had had my fill of the city and headed back to the airport for the last hour and a half.
There was plenty I missed; I had really set my heart on going to Stone Mountain to see the confederate leaders carved into the side of the mountain. I also wanted to eat lunch at Richard Blaise’s restaurant, but seeing that I wasn’t planning on walking around the city, I was completely underdressed and a little smelly. I also found out later that they have a muppet museum where they have the Dark Crystal Puppets on display; that would have been worth seeing. Maybe, my next trip across country, I’ll get stuck again and can see all the sights I missed.
Overall, it was a pretty good trip.
King and others praying
The Front of Graceland
The Backside of Graceland...much like the backside of water
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