Here we go again...

Ramblings Post #363
Sometimes life is. I mean, there is not much you can do about it other than live it. Sure there are things you can control, things you can influence, things you can change. But then there are those things you can't. Like the weather. And Chick-fil-et being closed on Sundays. And that I look better in black. I do, really.

When I first moved to Atlanta many many moons ago, one of the first real parties I went to was a SuperBowl party. Much like all those other people not from here, I too was seduced by one good weekend. That year somebody played somebody else, it was relatively warm out and that brother's house looked like a video shoot there were so many attractive women there. I still remember going down into the basement and being surrounded by like fifteen model types all very happy to see me. Full disclosure: I did not get one single number, did hook up with not a soul, got no we'll hang you later, no nothing. But let's just say it gave me hope.

Shortly after that they actually had the game in Atlanta. The Superbowl, if you're unaware, really is more of a week-long experience leading up to the game. Parties, events, just stuff, all centered around a football game that happens at the end of the week. I'm certain that ancient civilizations had something similar when I think about it. Ours involves a pigskin, theirs would have involved a sacrifice of some sort or at least a witch burning. Basically the same thing except for the ad revenue. But last time the city hosted the game, nature decided to put a damper on things with a massive ice storm that shutdown the city. It was out of left field, all black ice and businesses closed. But that leads to a story.

Because the game was in town an old partner of mine came through as well, it was the SuperBowl and we were young and did shit like that. Just go to events we couldn't go to and hang out. And we ended up hanging out with some guys he knew. This is back when house flipping was the move, so one of the guys who juggled houses for living had this supremely nice house in Alpharetta he was staying in and selling. A mansion really. Super nice. We hung out there a couple days, hit the few in-town functions when we could (if they were still being held) and had a pretty okay week. The guy with the really nice house is having a huge party on gameday, so of course we are down to roll.

That Sunday morning I get a phone call. It was a from a friend of mine who just happened to be on the Superbowl committee. She may or may not have actually been on the committee, I'm not sure now but I do distinctly remember she asked me one of those questions that you dream about: Do you want to go to Superbowl? Apparently due to the weather (remember, ice storm?) somebody somewhere who had a ticket had not made it and so she was offering it to me. To me. For the grand price of just show your ass up.

And I said no.

There a few times in life where I look back and wonder exactly what the hell was going on in my head when I said X, or did Y, or ate Z. Why didn't I get into the Ferrari? Why didn't I just take the job and fake it until I figured it out? Why didn't I just take the damn shoes? There is a show on Stars called Counterpart that I like, and it explores in part (as part of the backdrop of it's inter-dimensional espionage) the different paths in life we could be on but for small differences.

When I tell the story now, I swear it was a skybox seat because she was the kind of woman who would have an extra skybox seat, but honestly I don't remember. I do remember telling her I already had commitments and, instead of abandoning my friend, I declined the opportunity. Looking back at now though, he was resourceful guy. He could have found his way to Alpharetta. Why, me not leaving him to fend for himself is almost an insult to his very manhood! Okay, not really, we had great time at that party.

I say all that because this week's impromptu threat of snow on the week of the game reminds me those couple of days. The city was half encased in ice and yet drinks were being served here, people were out and about there, and I think that was the first time I ate at Boston Market. Now we're only supposed to get an inch or two, but considering the ill designed traffic flows and the dearth of foul weather driving skills amongst my fellow citizens, we are most definitely in for it. Atlanta though, will find a way. People will find an open bar, a hot buffet, some shoe models showing off the latest styles. Because it's what we do.

This time however, I have no house-guest, and plenty of groceries. My social wanderlust is currently in remission. The ranch gave us the day off but I brought my um, my "horse" home with me so it's not like I won't have things to do.

Barkeep, if you know someone who might have a spare ticket. What? Let's just say I've learned...

Snow-pocalypse 2014

Ramblings Post #251
Ah wintry morning, smile upon us and grant us the serenity of mind, the quiet of the morning, snow a blanket. Ah wintry morning, gaze upon and grant us the serenity of the soul, the quiet of the essence, snow a blessing. Ah wintry morning, I have an early meeting, so I'm sorry you can't stay. Here's a few bucks for a cab, and I'll call you. Promise.

Didn't I just do this? Oh yeah, I did.

The city of Atlanta is starting to get back to right. The Google traffic map has shifted back from a bright red halo of  I-285 to what could be a typical Wednesday, where only half the traffic is horrible. Actually it may look better than normal, since a lot of people aren't going anywhere until Friday if they can help it. I'm hunkered down, conserving my snacks and "trying to find an exit out the business."

So, what happened? What caused the city to sink into almost total gridlock, children to be stuck at school overnight, five miles commutes to last ten hours and people to have to sleep in their cars
overnight? Some of it was bad planning. No, a lot of it was bad planning. And constrained budgets. And obstinacy on the part of decision makers, private and public, thinking that it wouldn't be that bad.

First, the people in charge screwed up on this one. Governor. Mayor. Business owners. Etc. The storm was predicted over the weekend. In neighboring states, some closed schools on Monday and Tuesday in anticipation. Businesses said, take some time with the family. People got ready. That wasn't done here. It wouldn't be that bad. As Al Roker put it, the people in charge took a gamble and they lost.

Second, the city itself is ill prepared for such events. Although the city plan calls for nearly two hundred miles of streets to pretreated in case of emergency, no such pre-treating was done in this case. Again, this part of the gamble they took. But even if they had taken the initiative, two hundred miles is barely a sliver of the network of streets and roads that crisscross the city.  It was only a few years ago this same thing  occurred, and the city took steps to act like maybe they could do something. But, after spending a few million on gear and infrastructure, the cost of deployment and replenishment versus the possibility of wasted effort weighed heavily in the decision matrix. So they gambled that it wouldn't be that bad.

But it kinda was, that bad...

Third, the city of Atlanta really isn't a single city, what with the state, county and city governments all
with different agendas, added to the recent modern politics of the redivided south carving out what were previously neighborhoods into little separate cities, exactly who was in charge of what was a bit ... muddy. In some cases the same street might switch governance three times in two miles. This coupled with sending everyone home at the last minute so everyone hits the roads at the same time, the average Southern's inability to drive in snow plus the inability of most people to drive on ice, well, you see how things just kinda spiraled out of control. They quickly got...that bad.

I'm still not ready to trade this for say, Boston, where it's cold five months out of the year...but sometimes it does test me.  

So what to do? I talked with my brother, who last night was helping cars cross the bridge down the street from his house, and he came up with an idea that's been floating around my head since. Just an idea, I'm certain there are I'm missing but here it is:

Idea: Designated Local Agents; on an as needed basis for inclement conditions.

The idea is that the city of Atlanta...and it's surrounding boroughs...go ahead and buy more than few of these abundant foreclosure homes still sitting around our great city in strategic spots. Offer to pay a small fee for them, but if the banks get antsy you can always invoke eminent domain. Then, tear down the structure and build a concrete bunker. An artistic bunker. If you want, you can even landscape the area, get a local artist to paint the side. Call it infrastructure improvement or a citywide Art show. Then inside this structure, place a few hundred pounds of road salt, shovels, maybe even a plow you strap to front of a four wheel drive vehicle or two. Then take bids for the area. One or two people to hold the key. During inclement weather that contractor handles that specific area's street needs. Pay them say $2500 for their time per incident. Have a city manager check on them once a month to make sure the agents haven't moved and to inspect the bunkers. It might look costly on the front end, say an outlay of a five million dollars, but over the long run it would be more than cost effective.

And if you consider how the city responded to people in peril on the streets, I'm sure the contractors may even get a few volunteers to help out in our times of need. Neat all the way around. 

It's not a great plan. But it's a start. And I'm fairly certain a number of people can probably spot a dozen or so flaws fairly quickly. We in Atlanta thank you, because if you can spot the flaws that means we can fix them.

Barkeep. I believe I'll have a Hot Toddy, because that one time at that party....  

Snow babies

Ramblings Post #163
Now is the winter of our discomfort. I would have said "discontent" but that's another guy. They say there are parts of the Northern Central Plains...the Dakotas, Montana, like that... where the people EXPECT the power to go out for weeks at a time during a snowstorm. They're prepared. And then there are houses you can buy in Florida, considered "hurricane" proof that come with their own generators. And then there is Atlanta....

The landing on my steps...Monday AM

I once awoke in Chicago, and the weather report indicated that the day's high would be a NEGATIVE seven degrees, with a wind chill coming in off the lake of a NEGATIVE thirteen. Eight inches of snow was expected.

Now, I'm from South Carolina originally. And where I was born and raised, the next words out of any newscasters mouth would be..."And the following schools and businesses are closed.." That didn't happen in Chicago. There was three feet of snow on the ground already on the ground, more coming, the weather was below freezing and its was business as usual.

Atlanta is snowed in.

As a southern town, it doesn't take much. It could take as little as two inches, or as they call it up north, a dusting of snow. This is because snow melts, and becomes water..which freezes up after dark and becomes ice, which makes it hard to drive. Okay, in the interest of full disclosure, Atlanta drivers technically have a hard time driving in sunshine. Rain befuddles them on occasion. Ice on the road for people without snow tires makes it like driving on oil covered teflon.

Let me explain to how it normally works when we're supposed to get snow. The forecast would call for snow on say, a Wednesday. People would rush out and buy milk and bread to last for a week. That night it would snow. We'd awake to a winter wonderland. By say, noon Thursday, the snow would be a distant memory. The sun would have come out, temperatures would be back in the 40s, etc...

That didn't happen this time.

The snow came on Sunday. It fell in great sheets, in big puffy flakes, in waves. And then, because of thick cloud cover the temperature didn't get above freezing, the snow stayed. Now, keep in mind that for the Atlanta Metro area, some 130+ square miles, the city has eight "winter" vehicles equipped to handle emergencies. Which means things usually take a little time when things get bad.

Monday came and stores were shuttered, the airport ceased operations, and I want to say even the Waffle Houses closed up shop. The city shutdown.

People celebrated the day off, spent a little quality time with their kids because there was no school or lit a fire, poured some wine and spent some time with other kinds of loved ones. I expect there to be an upswing in September babies this year. People played in the snow, we marveled at the accumulation. Facebook exploded with Atlanta traffic as folks caught up and people who never post put in a word. It was casual.

That was three days ago. Now people have been trapped for three days with the people that they love and they are ready to be out. Work, school, gas station, just down the street where it's quiet. I actually strapped it up and ventured into the office for something to do! Single people, like myself, who go to the grocery store two or three times a week are in a bit of a bind. I have groceries, but they're not the food I usually eat. And I'm out of the stuff I usually drink. (Crystal Light...before ya'll get ideas)

Worse, I'm just realizing that since my first week of classes were canceled for the semester, the whole semester is gonna be a little off track.

Atlanta is not a snow town. What else can say?

The next few days will be chaos as the city tries to right itself. Well, organized chaos. Well not really chaos, but uncomfortable. As one Facebook friend put it, "if your complaint is that in a house with heat, food, cable and family you can't take it, then you have nothing to complain about. Think about someone missing one those."

And as I said, I live alone.

I wish had something pithy and erudite to end with, but instead, Barkeep...you know I need that brown.

Late Nights and Books of Gobblety Gook

Mental Rehab Post #24
Nothing like real life to get your head out the clouds, or your own ass, and get the new-ish you headed in some direction. It may not be the direction you want to be going, but anyplace other than here might be a better yet. My grandfather used to counsel that no matter how bad the storm got, even if you were just crawling along, to "keep moving." It's a bigger metaphor than I remember.

Last night I got home around 9:30pm, figured out what i was going to make for dinner. turned on the oven, opened the laptop to get started on the next portion of Research assignment, worked through roughly 90% of it....and then suddenly it was just after midnight. Just like that. Whoosh. I had fallen asleep.

So dinner was lunch meat sandwich and glass of kool-aid.

Since I was up, I went ahead and re-read for the class I had tonight. This would be the class I think I understand the most. And quite strangely the words on the page had returned to gobblety gook after the previous two weeks I had thought I had a good handle on things. I actually like the prof, he's quick on his feet, a good communicator, interesting to listen to, so I had been getting it the past few weeks.

But I got my first memo back last night before my other class, and that may have colored everything.

In class I joked after we reviewed how it was supposed to look that she could just keep mine. I wasn't that far off. Apparently I'm going to have to either unlearn how to write like I'm writing now, or learn how to turn off one type of writing and turn on the other. It's a tricky thing. Most people don't write except when they have to, but I write because I like it. It's how I express myself. So I'm going to have an issue a lot of my classmates won't: how to change a fundamental part of who am...In addition to a fundamental change in my way of thinking, which is the overall process of law school.

Great.

On the social front...well, that about wraps that up.

Shade is in town for, er, something. We're doing a birthday brunch this weekend. We've been on the phone a lot the past few days as she clarifies her current relationship with her ..um... suitor. I always find the idea that a woman can be confused about a man's intentions a funny concept. When we were eighteen we were supposed to be coy. As we get older we all should have figured it out somewhere along the way. To get what I want, I have to give them what they want. And I keep meeting people who act surprised that other people have their own wants and needs.

And I guess we'll call her Spanky...is also in town for the FAMU-TSU game this weekend in the Georgia Dome which it looks like due to my educational responsibilities, I will NOT be attending. A four hour football game and the hustle bustle before and after is just too much. Spanky will be disappointed, or not, because I think her "plans" will be arriving. A hour and half for brunch on Sunday for Shade's birthday might be too much as well, but that will be a "game time" decision.

Work is work, only really compressed. I'm still the point man on so many issues it's not funny. And the soap opera drama...if only I could put the names to go with this. The chick whose going away party I attended a few weeks ago had a skeleton bone fall out of her closet since she left. She was the "office tease." Which in turn dominoes this other party's business into the street. That would be the "office high post." And since it involves married and unmarried peoples involved in increasing unlikely and odd combinations of nekkid shenanigans and the associated falsehoods plus misrepresentations that accompany such occurrences, let's just say I don't even miss television right now.

Now this isn't the first time this has happened around the office. Where I work is a colorful place that just seems to be a hotbed of ... she used to do what, Maury "you are the father" moments, criminal enterprises, odd couplings and drunken confessions, but this one is just so...blatant. And since the parties came across as the kind of people who just didn't do this type of thing...you know.

Anyway...Paper looks on schedule, homework done for Wed. class A, working Wed. class B tonight, done my reading, started on my outlines...starting to get in the groove of this. Maybe.

Barkeep...a tequlia shooter with a dash of St. John's Wort.

Both sides of the street?

So this weekend, after the city of Atlanta was stopped by an overwhelming TWO inches of snow, I bundled up and rode out to a Fight party.

There's nothing quite like a good fight party. Usually peopled by people who aren't really there to see a fight, but who came for a party, it gives a function substance, a focal point if you will. Usually fight party goers are a little rowdier, a little more vocal, a little more raucous as the fight excitement permeates the crowd. It's a group focal point for an event, a kind of a theme, and not that single focal point, which is usually the chick with that nice butt in them really tight pants. It makes a party a little bit more than an excuse to get drunk and hit on drunker women. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Nothing.

So I show up and it's surprisingly full. The got big screens and flat screens all over, plenty of food, liquor looks plentiful, the women look friendly and all that's missing from the basement is a pole. I'm almost disappointed when the fight starts.

So as we watch Roy Jones play with Trinidad - beating his own stomach, poking out is chin, doing the Harlem Shake between rounds - the cops show up. In like round six.

Now this is a grown folks party. No weed. Everybody still got their clothes on. It's all cool.

Or rather it's not. Cause what has happened is some folks parked on the wrong side of the street.

Party Rule No. 6 - Parking - When partying at a home in a subdivision, one must take care that all invitees park on the same side of the street, as to not impede possible emergency traffic. Failure to follow this rule may result in local law enforcement ending the party prior to your planned time.

(As side note, I once had a party go so well, that 4am I called the cops on myself to get them folks out the house)

During the fight they start announcing that if you parked on the that side of the street, you need to move your car. For the number of folks there, that would be a whole lot of cars. Now, as we didn't all disgorge from the house like ants, a few rounds later the police decide that now...they want both sides of the street in the subdivision clear. Both sides?

I realize a rule or two was broken, but is that grounds to break up a peaceful gathering? Did I just get the new millennium equivalent of the fire hose? What just happened here?

Realizing that it would take the tow trucks time to arrive on scene, I watched until they read the decision, then broke camp. In the future, I'll be reviewing the rules and regulations regarding subdivision parking for wherever the hell I party.

Barkeep, make that a double shot of espresso. I need something strong.