Yesterday in Camilla, Ga.
Showing posts tagged instagram
Showing posts tagged instagram
Last week I spent a few days bumming around small towns in middle Georgia on a meandering reporting trip where one of the only must-do’s was visiting both of the Yesterday Cafes that claim to have the best buttermilk pie in the state. This one was superior. But the other one looked just like it.
Knoxville! Your downtown is lovely and I am ashamed it took me so long to realize this! Thank you for the surprise existence of your Tupelo Honey outpost and all the puppies at Market Square yesterday and for keeping the Tennessee Theater intact and for Rhythm & Blooms working whatever magic was needed to get The Everybodyfields back together for one night, confirming that after all these years of making me cry they can still make me cry. I had forgotten how that happens, actually. It wasn’t until the house lights dimmed, they walked onto the stage and opened with “By Your Side” and I startled myself by bursting into tears that I considered whether or not it was prudent to apply non-waterproof mascara that morning. Fortunately Maybelline makes some budgeproof eyegoop because I cried and cried and then cried more. Have I ever said, “This band is my favorite band”? It’s weird that I’m not sure if I have or not. But they are.
Saturday dusk on the Beltline.
The old Kodak lab on Ponce and Argonne is one of my favorite old buildings in Atlanta and for the first time last night I was stopped in just the right spot at the corresponding red light to take a photo. (I suppose there’s a certain amount of irony, or something, in posting the shot to Instagram.) As of last year the whole building, including the neighboring Atlanta Eagle, was for sale, but I don’t know what came of it. I live in fear of coming upon the building one day and seeing the storefront being painted over, the sign being dismantled, the block being readied for one of those parking garages Atlanta developers seem to love so well.
This cat lives on the Beltline, has its own mailbox and is named Piper. (If anyone knows anything else about this beautiful thing, please share! Google doesn’t seem to know much.) (Also it took me too long to realize the cat was probably named after the culvert pipe it [apparently] hangs around the mouth of all day.)
The General Muir is open now and Atlanta/my life/the world is better for it. In addition to the lox platter from which the above beauty was assembled, Joe and I split an order of poutine and YES we added chopped pastrami and YES it was the best choice I have made in a long time, foodwise or otherwise. This place is going to give me five hundred heart attacks and they will all be TOTALLY WORTH IT. Also I am trying not to take so many photos of food lately, but it seemed like a crime not to document this thing. I mean. It’s almost sexual. Not so when I began again to eat it—then it was just a total mess—but just look at that thing. Guttural noises. Uunf.
OK. This is better.
Come on, October. I expect this from January, maybe December, possibly even November—but you? I mean, seriously. What’s up, dude? You got something you wanna talk about? Really, I’m here for you. Let’s get this sorted out. Because right now my soul is dying and I am feeling like you do not even care.
Oh, I forgot to tell you about the friends I made in Nashville last week.