Nerd Wednesday, or Hot Child In The City

And I was hot in the city, though not the kind of hot Nick Gilder sang about back in the 70s. When we arrived in Atlanta it was around 6:30pm, and it was still 102 degrees. And the first night, we had no air conditioning in our hotel room; it wasn't until the next day we discovered that to get the cold air flowing we had to turn the thermostat down to about 40 degrees.

While I was in Atlanta, there were two things, well, no, three things.... Actually, there were four things. There were five things.... Wait, I'll come in again.

While I was in Atlanta, there were two things that made me realize it had been a very long time since my last visit to the city I used to hang out in on a regular basis. The first was simple. As we were on I-85 nearing our exit into downtown, I couldn't find Uniblab. Uniblab is actually the blue and white Saturn-shaped bar atop the Hyatt Regency hotel. I have no idea what its name is. We in our little circle always called it Uniblab because it looks just like the sneaky computer Mr Spacely hired on "The Jetsons" to spy on his office workers. Uniblab would tape their conversations about what a lousy boss Mr Spacely was, or join them in a poker game during work hours, filming the lazy bums as they loafed. Uniblab the bar used to be a great place, it rotated to show its patrons a panoramic view of the city while they guzzled.

The Downtown Atlanta skyline is now so built-up and convoluted, you can't even see poor little Uniblab there welcoming you into town.

The other thing, well, it was less simple, but no less depressing. But I'll get to that later.

In our old downtown experiences, we used to stay around the Peachtree St hub of activity. I'm assuming it's all still there, but this trip was centered more around what I call the Ted Turner hub. The Omni hotel and the CNN Center. Phillips Arena. Centennial Park, built for the Olympics and shown here, which wasn't even in existence the last time I was Atlanta-bound.

It's a nice expanse of concrete, the park. Has the Olympic Rings in the middle, and water squirts out of the rings and children stand in the squirting water. It's also lined with brick after brick sporting the names of people who've contributed to the building of the park, or to the Olympic effort, or something. The first day we were walking through Centennial, Mr M asked a vague question along the lines of "This is where the Olympics were, isn't it?" And I had to reply that, yes the Olympics were held in this very park, and the bricks were holding the names of where each person stood while watching the events. "See? Mr & Mrs Schull stood right on this brick, and the Pro Ski Shop stood right here. And the memory of Richard Harper stood here." Well, it was funny at the time.

As I said earlier in the week, Clarinetfest was held at the Omni hotel, which is pictured there at the top of the page. It connects up with the CNN Center, home of all things news. It's a shame about that Israel-Lebanon thing, because I was hoping to get me a good glance at Anderson Cooper, but he had to wing it to the crisis. However, I did get to see a lot of Anderson on the marquis at the CNN Center. The marquis flashed from Paula Zahn to the Atlanta Braves to "The Closer" to "Saved" to the Atlanta Falcons to Mr News himself, Anderson.

But imagine my surprise - after Anderson's seriously newsy face graced the marquis, I got to see an even better face. It's Muttley! Tseeee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee.

We found a great eating and hanging out place only one street away from our hotel. The Landmark Diner, a happy little place that's open 24 hours a day and serves not only burgers and sandwiches, but hot meals just like mom makes. It's comfy, cheap, has a good staff, and not one single time did I hear a bad song coming out of the stereo speakers. We ate lunches there, a dinner, and even, on Friday night, went there after midnight and got take-out burgers to munch on back in the room. Mr M looks happy (well, that's as happy as he looks, folks, get used to it), and in another "Waldo" moment, Sherman's there looking out of the Landmark's window, though the reflection of a white station wagon seems to be the focus of that particular photo. If I lived in Downtown Atlanta, well, I'd probably kill myself because living there would be a little like being a caged bird, but right up until the time I looped the rope around a ceiling beam, I'd eat every single meal at the Landmark Diner. At various numbers of the 24 hours.

OK, here's the more depressing side of how I knew it'd been way too long since I'd been to the Big City. Call it lost youth, call it urban growth, call it what you will. But back in the old days, I used to get in my car and drive all over that damn city. I knew how to get around downtown, then loop my way out and head to the Fox Theatre, where all the best concerts were, then off to Buckhead for the great shopping and eating. I knew my Peachtree Streets from my Peachtree Circles from my Peachtree Battles from my Peachtree Promenades from my Peachtree Roads. Which is not to say I never got lost driving around down there. Oh, my friends, I've been lost in areas of Atlanta that, well, if my mother knew even now she'd probably cry. But it never bothered me. I knew I'd find my way back to where I was going, spot my own personal landmarks, the great liquor store or the Varsity Jr or the kid's store with the great jewelry. And the traffic didn't bother me, I'd zip right along the city in those three very slim lanes of fast-moving traffic, going into this lane and that, and I was a pretty adventurous thing.

Now, the continuation of this story all revolves around a very exciting event for me. I've been waiting for over a year for the release of the latest movie starring no less a person than Alan F Arkin himself, "Little Miss Sunshine." I've heard rave reviews and news stories and have been sitting on pins and needles until it came out of "limited release" and headed to a city even remotely near me. But I'd found out that "Sunshine" had its Atlanta premiere the Friday we were in town. And Mr M had promised me he'd take me to see it, and was true to his word, and so we decided we'd take in the late showing on Friday.

I was, well, of course I was looking forward to the movie, but I was dreading the trip to see it. Because I couldn't remember where the damn theatre was! It was on Cheshire Bridge Rd, a thoroughfare I'd been on many, many times in the past, but I couldn't for the life of me think of how to get there. I'd forgotten all my landmarks, which road was which, and well, I felt just like the rube I am. The old rube. I didn't even volunteer to drive, I was so worried about zipping in and out of those slim lanes of city traffic.

(By the way, I'd taken over the driving duties when we were heading into Atlanta on Wednesday. God, how I used to love zipping down the multi-laned I-85 into the city, finding my exit, and heading to the hotel. This time, I was a nervous wreck. As any of the three other people in the car with me can testify to.)

Anyway, we took the "getting back on the interstate" route to get to Cheshire Bridge, and with only one missed exit, we found the place without too many headaches or heartaches. But in the old days I'd have stayed on Peachtree St out of the city and darted this way and that till I found my destination. The end result was the same, but it's a little crummy thinking I've lost my City Street Cred, what little I ever had, anyway.

And just how big of an Alan Arkin nerd would take a picture of the marquis of his latest film? Well, that's me, you know. And I was getting in touch with my Inner Nerd, so why not go whole hog? (The movie, by the way, was great, and I urge you all to go see it when it comes your way, not only for Mr Arkin. There are so many reasons to rave I won't go into all of them here, but I will say this movie has perhaps the greatest casting job ever done on a movie.)

We made it back to the hotel with ease, and that's when we walked over the Landmark for takeout.

And I'll end today's blog with this. I really enjoyed my walks around the city. Even with the heat, even with carrying a backpack loaded with a clarinet case and a pocketbook loaded with cameras, personal effects, too much loose change, and Sherman and Peabody. Maybe it was the decreased poundage from my frame, but every morning, mid-day, and evening, the trek from our hotel to the Omni was fun.

You know, people are always, here in this little town, saying, "I don't know how you do that! You'd better be awful careful, or take a can of mace with you!" I've walked around Atlanta, New Orleans, Washington, DC, Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Cleveland - and never once have I ever been accosted by anyone wanting anything more than a bit of spare change. Right before I left on this trip, a friend of mine was telling me the dangers of walking around Downtown Atlanta. "Oh, I've done it before, I've never had a problem," I replied. "You haven't been there lately!" she said excitedly. "I wouldn't walk a half a block there by myself now!"

I've stayed in a hotel in DC where there was gunplay in the lobby. The next morning the desk clerk had a black eye and a gauze bandage on his head. (I guess he was only grazed by the bullet, or was a very dedicated desk clerk indeed.) But on the street? Well, maybe I've just been very lucky, but I think people are too wary.

Except Larry Combs. He should have been a little more wary. Of me, anyway.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* A very interesting story about the night we went to the movies. We got to our destination very early, so Mr M went looking for pipe tobacco, and I went looking for a good cup of coffee. I found a little coffee shop near the theatre, Caribou Coffee. I noticed something rather odd as I was walking in, out on the shop's porch were a crowd of people, all doing sign language to each other. When I walked in, the whole coffee shop was filled with people doing sign language! It was a deaf coffee shop! The strangest thing, a place full to the rafters with people, and it was totally silent. The staff were apparently hearing, because I ordered and got what I asked for, but it was just an odd, odd thing.