Chamblee54

Wednesday the thirteenth was the monthly meeting of the Atlanta bloggers group. It had been eleven months since I made one, and sometimes you just have to get out of the house.
The night can be divided into three parts. The first was the drive into town. The freeway was crowded and scary, with lanes disappearing and beemers refusing to let you get over. This is to be expected. I got off at Williams street, and was doing pretty good until I got to International Blvd. Turning left by the former bus station, I turned onto what I thought was Spring Street. Instead, I was going by the library and onto Forsyth. I turned by the gussied up Rialto, and wondered what on earth was so special about that building. Going down past the Olympic park and the omni complex, I found a street that seemed correct to turn onto. A couple of turns down increasingly desolate streets put me in front of the Elliot street pub, the scene of the festivities. I was past it before I knew what was going on, and had to go back around the block. The street names seemed to change from the last time I had been on those streets just a minute before. Finally I found Elliot street, and saw a parking spot on the street that did not have a no parking sign.
The second part of the evening was pretty neat. The Elliot Street Pub was a classic little joint, with lots of cool stuff on the wall to look at. There was a tv behind the bar, with the scrolling words on the screen. The scrolling words were comparing Michael Phelps to Tiger Woods. I decided not to look at that anymore.
David was the first person to greet me, followed by Lori. I made my way to the bar, and the bartender agreed to make a pot of coffee for me. That is the reason I am typing these notes now instead of going to sleep.
I stood in front of the carved wooden man and took in the scene. Duane was discussing his counter tops. David was talking about the Olympics, and a discussion ensued about what events were in the Decathlon. I wandered over to the side, and talked to Mr. and Mrs. Chutney about Frank Zappa and bands that don’t do well in concert. The napkin began to be passed around, only this time it was on solid paper. The medium is the message. Before long, the blogging crowd was leaving, and I left my third cup of coffee unfinished on a bar.
Outside, I formally introduced myself to Duane, and listened to him and Chutney discuss life in East Atlanta.
Then the third, and least pleasant, part of the evening started. I sort of know my way around downtown, and the plan was to find a street that would lead me to Piedmont. I wound up on Trinity, which worked well until it got to the deadend at Memorial with no street light. Little did I know that a Braves game had just let out, and there was a non stop line of cars going past me on Memorial. I had to turn around in the other lane on Trinity and go back towards Peachtree.
I found Peachtree, and dashed into an intersection when the light changed to get in front of a long line of cars. I went up Peachtree until I got to Fifth, where I made my move to get to Piedmont. There is a house on Fifth Street that is playing revolving restaurant…a new place will open, go bankrupt, and then someone else will try his luck. The current occupant of the building had a red neon sign that seemed to say STRAIT. That is not a good name for a business on that street.
So I turn onto Piedmont, and when I pass tenth street the rain starts. Hard. Very Hard. I go past the park, and see signs saying that the two right lanes would be closed ahead. The street was condensed to two lanes, and the sky was falling in. I made it to Cheshire Bridge and turned right. Surely by the time I get to Buford Hiway things will be better. Again I am wrong. Buford Hiway is being repaved, and is down to two lanes. I am behind a Marta Bus, and it is raining cats and dogs. I get to Clairmont and slide around the bus when the turn arrow comes on. Through extreme familiarity with the intersection I can find the lane to go north. At this point the rain becomes less intense, and I got home intact.
Somehow, I285 won’t seem so bad later this morning.