Why am I writing this?
Last year this was the question I began my
assessment of Columbia with and I thought I'd
follow a similar formula in discussing Atlanta. I'm in between writings, I'm not quite ready to start a new short
script, I finished a writing a recent short I'm showing to the producers of my latest short which is now in post-production.
So let's talk about Atlanta. I'm hitting 6 months of living in Atlanta and I've reached the point living here where I'm no longer in my honeymoon phase.
So let's talk about Atlanta. I'm hitting 6 months of living in Atlanta and I've reached the point living here where I'm no longer in my honeymoon phase.
This current state of residence in Atlanta
coincides with a bout of recurring nostalgia for two cities important in my past that has
led me to dig deeper in my feelings for Atlanta: Columbia and Athens.
Nostalgia for Columbia came a little more unexpected but I've shared quite a number of moments of nostalgia when I found colleagues who were USC alumni and who loved Columbia...and would rather go back. That...I'm not at that point. I do miss small things, things I unraveled when I let myself go and enjoyed myself in Soda City. Once I found the restaurants that covered my tastes and found a routine I was free to enjoy the small things in Cola (if anything I miss Lamb's Bread Vegan Soul Food).
Nostalgia for Columbia came a little more unexpected but I've shared quite a number of moments of nostalgia when I found colleagues who were USC alumni and who loved Columbia...and would rather go back. That...I'm not at that point. I do miss small things, things I unraveled when I let myself go and enjoyed myself in Soda City. Once I found the restaurants that covered my tastes and found a routine I was free to enjoy the small things in Cola (if anything I miss Lamb's Bread Vegan Soul Food).
Besides Columbia I also found myself
nostalgic with Athens for the first time a couple of weeks ago. Due to a falling out with a couple of acquaintances in Athens I had a falling out with Athens as well. Athens and I
have always maintained a fragile, complicated relationship. It was the definitive
left of center social scene for my friends when we lived in North
Georgia. It was a special weekend for my friends and me to go to Athens, go to record
shops and eat at Mama's Boy. I haven't (yet) found the places in Atlanta where I can have the same relationships I have with the 40 Watt Club or the Athens Cine which remains the greatest movie cinema as far as I'm concerned. That being said, I feel like I was
always judged in Athens. At first it was because I was a GSC student
and thus in “13th grade” (this was pre-recession and
before community colleges were cool...if they are). Maybe I'm narrow
minded, but there's a sense of entitlement that permeates Athens. Athens is more complicated than this simple assessment but it's something I'll share because I've met people who have felt the same. Any Georgia State student or alumnus will state similar feelings. I
feel like there's an Athens club and I could never be a member.
That's what always drew me to Atlanta: not only its forestry but how inclusive it has usually been. I never felt judged in Atlanta. Atlanta was the
spot on the map I always wanted to be at. I left a possible job in Columbia
because I wanted to try and get a job in Atlantaland. I succeeded.
I'm now an Atlanta resident.
So now what? How much has Atlanta lived up to my expectations?
…
I'm going to dive into my experience with Atlanta like I did for Columbia last year by sharing strains of thoughts on my life in Atlanta.
"Ooh...Inman Perk."
"The Beltline is great. Dogs are great. I miss my dog. Can I pet your dog?"
"It's a shame the Masquerade is closing. They're assholes though. My favorite bands played there. I don't know what to feel."
"Ponce City Market...why?"
"This Krog Street Market is fantastic."
"This Fred's Meat & Bread burger is the best burger ever."
"Memorial Drive will kill my car."
"Will I die if I move to East Atlanta?"
"East Atlanta is great. Midway Pub is great. Joe's is great. Elder Tree is great."
"Is Argosy supposed to be in this neighborhood?"
"Hodge Podge...Oh Honey...oh yes."
"It smells like fried food. It smells like weed. It smells like donuts."
"Why are there no chips and salsa mom and pop Mexican restaurants? Why are tacos $3.5?"
"I found my place. I found El Mexicano. I found love. I can sleep at night."
"DeKalb needs to get its shit together."
"Sharon Barnes-Sutton...maybe a psychopath."
"We almost won at the Local!"
"I always go to Publix. Kroger isn't good."
"Oh Kroger was really nice this week."
"These sweet potatoes are rotten! Screw you Kroger!"
"Who's racing on I-20?"
"No, I will not go to Marietta for this date."
"Why do people love the Plaza?"
"I miss the quiet."
...
I miss the quiet? Yes, I miss the quiet.
Is that a bad thing? Is it a bad thing to enjoy a slower pace? Can't I #yolo in a movie theater or reading Lab Girl at Joe's or Hodge Podge?
But how badly do I miss the quiet? That's the question. I do relish walking to a pub like Elder Tree or Midway and watching a hockey game. I do relish trivia at The Local with my friends. I can't do that in Habersham. I can't see the punk shows I enjoy in rural Georgia...unless I'm the one performing and it's in my friend's basement.
That's the core issue of an ambivert: when can I have quiet when it's loud, and when I can have friends and loudness when it's too quiet?
That's been my justification for Atlanta. It's not a balls to the wall city a la Chicago, NYC, etc. It's still a city. In fact it's a fairly consequential city. We're THE Southern hub. Yet it's green. It has the largest tree canopy of any major U.S. city. When I would walk the Beltline during my crash on my friend's couch month it stunned me at how with one view I have the Midtown skyline--one of my favorite city skylines--and turning around I just see craftsman houses and trees and Freedom Park. The best parts of Atlanta are genuine, holistic neighborhoods that could be found in a small town, my small town.
So what's there to argue about?
...
In any relationship--friendships, romantic, etc--there are always recurring arguments. These arguments result from fundamental differences--differences that are ultimately misdemeanors but ones that irk another until a flare-up. Every relationship has these differences and they're misdemeanors until they became felonies (and cause relationships to end) or they remain misdemeanors (and the relationship passes it off).
Atlanta and I don't have any felonies between us. It's a large enough city to where I can find my crowd and stay. There are misdemeanors. Why do I miss the quiet? Because I miss wider landscapes. I miss room to roam...privately. I miss my space. Let's be honest, though: there's no city that will reward that desire.
Memorial Drive is a misdemeanor. Driving on Memorial Drive will kill my car. It kills my soul. Driving in Atlanta kills one's soul. It's the opposite effect of nature, which heals. Traffic and driving in Atlanta severs proverbial arms and causes deep proverbial wounds. I say proverbial, though technically an auto collision can make the proverbial a reality.
There's no way around the changes in Atlanta. Since I started exploring Atlanta the changes keep coming and coming. Some of the changes are wonderful. The Beltline...there's no city that has a Beltline and it is truly remarkable. If a city or a place wants to improve it's viability to everyone and be inclusive parks and green space are never not going to be the best option.
It's hard to put into words what I miss. I want to be at the restaurants where there are families, where people are there with no reason except they're hungry or they want to hang out. There's no pretension in a place like El Patron, a restaurant in my home community. Is it the best food? No. Is it tasty? I think so. There was something revelatory in going there and see kids celebrate birthdays, friends hanging out, people catching beer after work. For a lot of people this seems boring but I find it transcendent.
I've reached a point to where I find $100 jean shops and restaurants that hinge on buzzwords such as "artisan-crafted," "mixed-use," and so forth as sterile. I don't want that.
...
Thankfully I've found the places that offer such an experience. East Atlanta, which I was terrified of, has been a revelation. It turned out to be a great neighborhood for me. Sure, there are man-buns abound at places like Argosy (which I actually like) but I love walking to Joe's East Atlanta Coffee, Grant Central Pizza, Elder Tree, the 529, and The Earl, or lightly driving to El Mexicano or Hodge Podge.
East Atlanta is also a prime location. I'm centrally located to places like Inman Park which I love walking around, and Krog Street Market, with Fred's Meat & Bread, Yalla, and Grand Championship BBQ offering the best food in gentrified Atlantaland. I'm prime to be in Ponce for the Drunken Unicorn and The Local's Wednesday night trivia with my friends. I'm prime for Decatur, home of my death row meal restaurant Community Q, and the wonderful (and pedestrian friendly) square with Little Shop of Stories, Brick Store Pub, Iberian Pig, Leon's Full Service, and so forth.
Part of reckoning with a city is finding where you want to be. If you can't find anything, then the city isn't for you. Before moving I had enough flings with Atlanta to know that I would have my spots. After 6 months I'm less dour than I was after 1 1/2 months of Columbia.
So what's there to argue about?
...
In any relationship--friendships, romantic, etc--there are always recurring arguments. These arguments result from fundamental differences--differences that are ultimately misdemeanors but ones that irk another until a flare-up. Every relationship has these differences and they're misdemeanors until they became felonies (and cause relationships to end) or they remain misdemeanors (and the relationship passes it off).
Atlanta and I don't have any felonies between us. It's a large enough city to where I can find my crowd and stay. There are misdemeanors. Why do I miss the quiet? Because I miss wider landscapes. I miss room to roam...privately. I miss my space. Let's be honest, though: there's no city that will reward that desire.
Memorial Drive is a misdemeanor. Driving on Memorial Drive will kill my car. It kills my soul. Driving in Atlanta kills one's soul. It's the opposite effect of nature, which heals. Traffic and driving in Atlanta severs proverbial arms and causes deep proverbial wounds. I say proverbial, though technically an auto collision can make the proverbial a reality.
There's no way around the changes in Atlanta. Since I started exploring Atlanta the changes keep coming and coming. Some of the changes are wonderful. The Beltline...there's no city that has a Beltline and it is truly remarkable. If a city or a place wants to improve it's viability to everyone and be inclusive parks and green space are never not going to be the best option.
It's hard to put into words what I miss. I want to be at the restaurants where there are families, where people are there with no reason except they're hungry or they want to hang out. There's no pretension in a place like El Patron, a restaurant in my home community. Is it the best food? No. Is it tasty? I think so. There was something revelatory in going there and see kids celebrate birthdays, friends hanging out, people catching beer after work. For a lot of people this seems boring but I find it transcendent.
I've reached a point to where I find $100 jean shops and restaurants that hinge on buzzwords such as "artisan-crafted," "mixed-use," and so forth as sterile. I don't want that.
...
Thankfully I've found the places that offer such an experience. East Atlanta, which I was terrified of, has been a revelation. It turned out to be a great neighborhood for me. Sure, there are man-buns abound at places like Argosy (which I actually like) but I love walking to Joe's East Atlanta Coffee, Grant Central Pizza, Elder Tree, the 529, and The Earl, or lightly driving to El Mexicano or Hodge Podge.
East Atlanta is also a prime location. I'm centrally located to places like Inman Park which I love walking around, and Krog Street Market, with Fred's Meat & Bread, Yalla, and Grand Championship BBQ offering the best food in gentrified Atlantaland. I'm prime to be in Ponce for the Drunken Unicorn and The Local's Wednesday night trivia with my friends. I'm prime for Decatur, home of my death row meal restaurant Community Q, and the wonderful (and pedestrian friendly) square with Little Shop of Stories, Brick Store Pub, Iberian Pig, Leon's Full Service, and so forth.
Part of reckoning with a city is finding where you want to be. If you can't find anything, then the city isn't for you. Before moving I had enough flings with Atlanta to know that I would have my spots. After 6 months I'm less dour than I was after 1 1/2 months of Columbia.
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