Then cometh the rain

Ramblings Post #323
Sometimes the words get muddled. The milk sours. And in those moments where the storm pounds down upon our heads, we can only see the rain and hear the thunder and for a brief instant, we are horrified that maybe it will go on forever. But it can't. It won't. My grandfather once said that if you get caught in a storm you keep moving. Because the storm can't last forever. But this isn't about a grand teaching parable that will guide us in those moments of despair. This is about traffic in the rain in Atlanta. But this sounds like it's leading to something so epic, didn't it?

What is it about Atlanta traffic?

Leaving the office today.

In the parking garage, there is a line to leave. Inside the garage. I get up, swipe my pass, and get through the gate, and the driveway to the street is full. The short street that dead ends into the major thoroughfare, at which we all have to turn right on, is bumper to bumper across all four lanes. I need to get on that street, get across all four of those lanes, and make an immediate left at the light....all in the space of what, forty yards? My usual thing is to make a left drive out of the garage, drive to the other end of the block and make two rights to get onto said major thoroughfare whereupon switching lanes becomes easier. Smart, right?

The car in front of me, and the six or seven cars between it and the end of the street all are determined to make that right onto the major thoroughfare right here. So we wait for a good Samaritan to let the first driver in. Then another, and another...just so the congestion right out of the garage clears. Five minutes.

I make the left, and at the first intersection before the end of the block going away from traffic is...a standstill. Not inching along, I mean gridlock. For another five minutes. Then we move, a little, the bus in front of me is letting off people even though there is no stop. Rain is pouring, another five minutes. Edge along a little as cars getting out two different other garages ease into gridlock. Pull up a little further and ...there are three cars sitting in traffic with their blinkers on. Waiting. I only wish they were broken down.

At the intersection pedestrians have the right of way, and most of them shuffle along like they haven't a care in the world and it's not pouring buckets of agua from the sky. Guy in front of me can't make a left turn, won't even ease out, even after traffic abates for a brief fifteen second count. (Seriously, I counted.) He finally makes the turn when someone is halfway through the crosswalk. I make the FIRST right turn, and for a brief moment my car is going faster than 2 mph. Wooooo!

Next light, next right and suddenly we're stopped again. I turned wide, because I could, and now I'm in the third lane over and have just one more to go. I see the people to my right - lanes one and two, easing up, why are we stopped? Someone else trying for the fourth lane has decided they need to get over NOW, in the middle of the block. We wait behind because we forgot to mount lasers on our hoods. He gets over, gets to the end of the block...and keeps going straight. So why did he have to get over right then?

I finally get back to the front of my building. I glance at the clock in my car. Twenty five minutes have passed and I'm literally right in front of my building. Make the left, miss the bus which is hanging across three lanes, pull in and up the hill. And why is this guy driving so slowly? The lanes headed the other way are bumper to bumper. The way we are going is clear. Why is he doing twenty? Intersection, we're right next to one another. And there is a truck trying to join the bumper to bumper traffic and lo and behold he's in my lane, broadside, when the light turns green. Oh joy.

He finally joins traffic and I press on, oddly catching the slowpoke two lights later where he's just getting to the intersection. And the worst part is I'm not even at the bad intersection yet.

If only Marta was worth a damn.

Barkeep. You have no idea.

More News from Elsewhere

Somewhere in Mongolia, atop a hillside over looking the Tuul River and what by now should a representation of his army laid before him, stands a statue of one of the greatest conquers of all time. No, not the guy who started McDonalds, the guy who ruled over half the known world in the 13th century? Ruled an empire that stretched from modern day Korea to the Black Sea in Europe? You know, the guy they named the Star Trek villain after? Genghis Khan.

He's pretty big in Mongolia.

After flying into Genghis Khan International Airport (spelled Chinggis Khaan, but you know) and
taking a moment to refresh or stopping to grab some "made in Mongolia" merchandise, you're just a hop skip and jump down the road from the statute. It's not somewhere, I made that up, it's 60 kilometers east of the capital, just north of the airport. But, don't fill up at the local Taco Bell, because the vistor center in the base has traditional horse meat and potatoes to sample and a billiard room because..., um, because reasons. The statute is done, but I'm not sure about the few thousand traditional yurts which are supposed represent his camped army. It's supposed to be spectacular when it's all done.

via Flickr - Corsin Decurtins

I see things like this and wonder when it will be known to people outside Mongolia (other than myself, Mr. Decurtins and a few other internet denizens) or if I will ever have a chance to visit. A short visit, but a visit nonetheless.  I speculate that it will have to be used a challenge prop on the Amazing Race or the guys from Top Gear will have to stop by on the way to somewhere before it gets more pub than me a few other folks pointing it out on the internet.

Damn shame too.

Barkeep, whatever is they drink in Mongolia. Show some respect.  

A Quick Restaurant Review - Georgia Brown's

The DC Stories #2
I went, I ate, I drank, and somebody even got married. Well, that part was kinda planned, but eating this good wasn't. I mean the point of your average fast food chain is no matter where you are, you know what you're getting. But then with that attitude, you miss so much.

The city of Washington has all the makings of a mecca of culinary artistry, as it hosts so many different nationalities with various embassies and missions that dot the city. That said, after waking and eating early, driving to Hartsfield-Jackson, parking in economy parking and walking the mile or so to the terminal on my bad ankle, realizing that everything inside the airport was insanely overpriced, flying, and waiting for my brother to procure the rental car...my introduction to the local cuisine could have been a Burger King for all I cared. I was hungry.

Luckily my sad introduction to vast array of options was foiled by my brother's ...er, long time companion? I think of her as my unofficial sister-in-law, but here... I've referred to her as previously by my brother's old nickname for her, Sal.  Well, she had been directed to try a particular haunt upon arrival because it was a can't miss. And since I was traveling solo, and they were nice enough to invite me along. Not that the deli on the corner looked bad. After a quick consultation of Google maps and adventurous driving we were on our way to Georgia Brown's, a upscale joint on 15th St. just North of the White House.

Note: The official name is Georgia Brown's Low Country Cuisine. So, technically this is the food of South Carolina. I did not know this when I arrived. I went to DC to eat food my mom makes. Oh, you fate.

The interior of GB's reminded me oddly, of the old Justin's in Atlanta, but with a lower ceiling. Similar layout - Bar up front to the right, dining room to the left, and at roughly 4:30pm on a Friday afternoon the bar packed with customers dressed casually. I half expected to look over and see some people I knew then feel obligated to go over to apologize for not joining them. It's what I guess you would call "city big", as it was still a small space but very nicely appointed. All various tones of muted browns, with a large poster of Obama and MLK right by the hostess podium.

The dining room by contrast was, er...quiet? No, empty, yes, that would be the more correct term. Empty. It was very well appointed, with a huge metal sculpture intended to remind you of being under and oak tree suspended from the ceiling and lots of light, with the tables the "just a little too close together" feel that all good restaurants have. You, know, that pushed in one table too many because of the crowds feel. Now, to be fair, the room was starting to fill in when we finished, so maybe the dinner hour is different in this region of the country. Or we just got there early. 

As an appetizer, we split the bread plate. Now, let me say this, I could have gone there, gotten two or three plates of the bread and gone home. They're apparently famous for their cornbread, which comes in skinny loaves with warm butter. And they earned that reputation because fresh from the oven the cornbread is a hot devisement of perfection, with just a hint of sweetness from the butter. 

Now, If I remember correctly, Sal got the Amish Chicken with Mac and Cheese (wait, there are Amish in SC?), my brother got the huge Cowboy steak they had as a daily special and I settled on the Southern Fried Chicken, which came with collard greens and mashed potatoes. The food was good, the chicken cooked in what I assume were quarters and fried crisply without drying it out. Now, this isn't health food, as the gravy, mashed potatoes and greens were delicious...and health food ain't delicious. My brother loved his steak, which was supposed to be eighteen ounces and it looked cooked perfectly.  The service was attentive but not overly so, and when they offered for coffee afterwards it didn't feel overbearing.

I may not have mentioned it, but Sal was instrumental in getting me my current "gig", interning at the Fulton County Courthouse. We talked about the my experience so far, and caught up, as although my brother and I talk often we don't see each other regularly. Well, we didn't talk that much, the food was good and they were hungry too. It was a good finish to a long day. Well, not really, we went out later that evening, in and out of DC and all that, but had we called it a night there I wouldn't have been mad at all. Next time I'm in DC, I think I know where me and Sporty are going!
  

Washington Dee Cee, Baby....

The DC stories #1
Last week, I went to our nations capitol, Washington DC. I ate, I drank, I saw the arts, I went to a wedding, I drank some more, I caroused, I caught the 8am train to Baltimore on Sunday morning. Remember - be careful what you wish for kids, because sometimes you get it.

My plan was to go to DC for my cousin's wedding. And to see Sporty. Well, mostly to see Sporty, the wedding was just an excuse. But apparently asking someone to a wedding a month in advance is a little late. Well, that and Sporty already had tickets to go to Vegas for the Mayweather fight. And even my cousin said the plan was to catch the fight either at or after the reception...so her absence was understandable. So my new plan was to run through DC with family, and not get to see Sporty. I even know a bunch of DC people, but people my age work for a living...and my schedule in and out was tight. So, limited if any visiting.

Please note that despite my best intentions, I don't travel often. And when I do...well, there's not really much to say. I mean it's been so long since one of my trips has been to somewhere other than my parents house I shudder to think about it. Technically, I think I've been counting riding out to see my brother as traveling in some sense, but since we both live in Atlanta, that's just weird. Oh, Atlanta's a big spread out city, and its an at least forty five minutes there, so it almost counts as a day trip...but it's still Atlanta.

I caught a deal at bookit.com, so I managed to get a room maybe three blocks from the Capitol for less than I thought possible. Bonus, it was around the corner from the hotel the family was staying at...so I could ease out if I so desired. Nice hotel, nice room...though it did look a bit dated. But then I was probably expecting something unrealistic, although a suite with a private butler shouldn't sound crazy. 

Now, DC proper? The vibe I got is that Washington is a what I guess people think of when they think of moving to the big city. Nearly everything is in walking distance, or designed to be walked to, or there is a cab every fifteen seconds. There is the international flair and it has all four seasons. It even looks cleaner than NYC, and appears generally safer. There were street rallies, cute little shops, restaurants with couches on the sidewalk and it all looked so television urban. By comparison Atlanta feels like its just a series of suburbs with the occasional skyscraper thrown in for flavor.

I can see why Sporty likes it.

Now I have no pictures. I had both my actual cameras charging, and left them both on the kitchen counter. And the camera in my phone has slid down into the casing, so all those pics come out pitch black. So I went to bring a camera city - museums, architecture, arts - and left mine picture clickers at home. I may need a new phone.

But there's more. I made three noteworthy stops on the trip...two Friday, and one Saturday. I did run into Shade for brunch, which I'll chronicle shortly. There were some good moments, some bad moments. All in all it was a typical weekend in the neighborhood. Just that neighborhood was a plane ride away.

Barkeep, water. Keep it coming. Back to the grind.