Ramblings Post #190
There was a time when Saturday Night Live was funny. Okay, maybe I was thirteen and my finely tuned sensor humor still had some growing to do. But there was a time a long long time ago when Saturday Night meant a bowl of snacks and large glass of Kool-aid. Not much longer after that it meant beer and babes, loud music and a greasy breakfast at a roadside diner. Its someplace else now, but I'm not quite sure where that is.
A few years ago, some friends of mine trying to make a few quick bucks, decided to throw a party on a Sunday. Because in Georgia you can't buy liquor on Sunday, the rule was bring a bottle or give up $20. After they charged for "PREMIUM" parking they made quite a pretty penny.
However, when you throw a party and charge - people expect a party. So the people who arrived at 11pm and paid $20 expected a party to still be going on until they got done. Which might have as been as late...as till they're ready to go home. And since the people throwing the party had these things called JOBS to go to Monday morning, this eventually turned into a BAD CONCEPT.
Earlier this week I updated Sporty to my weekend plans - A pool party an old partner of mine was throwing, studying all day Sunday, and a helping my RP cookout on Monday. Not as ambitious as say, five or six years ago, when Friday would have been two or three functions, Saturday would have been three or four cookouts, Sunday my home town crew would have rolled in and we'd have ended up somewhere until 3 or 4am, and then Monday an easy breezy recovery cookout somewhere else. I used to send out a newsletter at work. I guess I've gotten slow in my old age. Well, not really, I've just changed my priorities and taken myself out of the mix so I can concentrate.
So today is Saturday. And the party is today starting at 3pm. At Piedmont Park.
If you live in Atlanta, you know why that statement makes this party - a BAD CONCEPT.
Piedmont Park is Atlanta's way downmarket version of Central Park. It does however have a just finished remodeling Pool Complex. Unfortunately, the people who designed the park figured that at most 25 or 30 folks would ever want to use it at one time. Maybe 50 on a sunny day. Because there is NO parking. And the streets that surround it a small and narrow. And it's four blocks from the Atlanta Metro Transportation system. And the second the sun comes out on a Saturday, an estimated 2 billion people immediately try to squeeze into the space. Or something like that. Traffic is a nightmare. Parking, as I mentioned before, is non-existent. None of this came to mine until I was in the car...on the way. At 6pm.
I had gotten the email with the rules for the party on Friday, an had become a little less than excited. The term "party" had been mis-used, as in reality this was a closed market situation - pay to get in, pay for drinks, pay for food, pay for towels, etc. But I hadn't been out in a while, so meh. In and out. I waited until the sun started going down, figuring most of the crowds would have dissipated. But traffic was still bumper to bumper. There was no parking. Even the secret lot I used to use was full. And I wasn't about to park on a side street and risk getting towed by an over zealous someone who felt I shouldn't be parking on their street...despite the fact they moved next to the park knowing people would park on their street.
So, I'm not going to the pool party.
Thank god I have that bottle of Knob Creek in my liquor closet.
Barkeep, I'm gonna need a little cola to go with this.