Three days of torture by Powerpoint in Atlanta was sufficient that I began to relate to
General Sherman.
I don't know what he would have thought of
ATL's big ants, but they certainly convinced me to march out of my hotel early, to get to the airport to make sure I didn't miss a delayed flight.
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| Sherman's Army Ants |
Alas, no Red Carpet Club in Delta's hub. But I did find a nice R&B & fried chicken bar, albeit a little ersatz, owned by Budweiser, decorated with fascinating memorabilia of the early days of R&B and soul music. Sort of Hard Rock Cafe, but small and black and in an airport concourse. No ants, just record albums and flyers of Dinah Washington and Etta James performances and photos of blind Delta blues men. I was enchanted by the photo of a disc jockey who seemed to be watching me as I fortified myself with some meaty wings and brew for my pending foodless flight to D.C. (indirectly via Chicago).
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| Alley Pat |
I thought the DJ might have been the bartender in earlier days; the bartender told me if it was him he'd own the place, not work there, and he told me the DJ's name which I promptly forgot. It's
Alley Pat. I've learned a great deal of interesting stuff while tracking it down. Now pushing 90, he was one of the
originals for
WERD, the first
African-American-owned and operated
radio station in the country.
The bartender was friendly and talkative, and posed under Alley's picture for me.
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| Not Alley Pat |
I arrived in D.C. very late with some of the leftover Atlanta wings for a snack, and then went to the hotel bar for a nightcap. The bartender got me my G&T and then said, "Didn't you used to work at XYZ Corp. in Hawaii?" Why, yes...it was R, a great guy I worked with at XYZ more than 20 years ago. Not someone I think about frequently, but remember fondly. Curiously, I actually
had been thinking of him just a few days before I left on this trip. "Wonder what ever happened to R, where did he go?" And there he was.
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| My friend R |
My G&T was on the house, and after R's shift ended, we went to the hotel bar next door and did serious damage to a couple bottles of fine chardonnay. This answered my question, "What do bartenders do after they leave the bar?" They go out for drinks.
And at least I was out of Atlanta and in the company of a friend.
2 comments:
Hi baroness radon --
It doesn't sound like you had the best of times in Atlanta. Ah well... hope it was productive!
I visited Atlanta several years ago. Had a pretty good time there -- and have good memories of good meals eaten while there. :)
Well, it wasn't bad, just blah, business travel. DC was better, and Portland was great. I never really got out of the meeting hotel (which to be fair was quite nice). If I hadn't been so exhausted and had been with some friends, I probably could have some nice nights out. So my memories are largely of of the hotel, Powerpoint presentations --there is surely Powerpoint in hell--and the airport!
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