An update (in case you missed me)

I’m back, by the way. Let me update you on the priorities (God, country, family, school, and wrestling):

I found a church close enough to me to attend on Sundays: Our Lady of Lourdes. I had known about it but didn’t think I was welcome (I’m sorta shy and create nonexistent obstacles for myself) because it is an African-American Catholic church – whatever that means – which precludes me. It turns out that I certainly am welcome (it’s the most welcoming parish I’ve ever been to) and if it’s African-American that’s in name only; the priest and probably over 50% of the congregation are white.

Barack Obama is the presumptive democratic candidate for president. Whoever was nominated was probably always going to win, solely by virtue of being a democrat. I like him better than John McCain – so I’ll vote for him – but I like him less than I did in November. I got really jaded and disillusioned during his campaign against Hillary Clinton and continue to become even more apathetic during his adjustments to intended policy in the campaign against McCain. Unfortunately, I am voting for him now more as an alternative than as an ideal. I think he’ll be good for the country, but I’m a little cautious and wary. As I should be – he’s a politician.

My grandmother and (mom’s brother) Uncle Jim have died. My grandmother died just at the end of December, fittingly ending the crappiest year ever. Uncle Jim died unexpectedly of a stroke in April. When my mother was in Maryland for the funeral, my brother stole thousands and thousands from her, then tried to take out a car – a Lexus(!) – in my name. Police were called and he’s fighting a felony, and I still don’t know where that money was used for. Mom is being a mom and wavering on her anger towards her, and he’s mooching off her concern. I won’t trust him again until I learn exactly what was going on; he says it won’t happen again and that I should believe him – that request insults my intelligence.

I found a dissertation topic. It involves health economics, which I randomly fell into and now must learn; but it does also involve urban. If the poor are spatially mismatched from jobs, are they similarly mismatched from consumption opportunities? And what’s the most common consumption trip?...probably grocery shopping. Access to healthy foods as a problem is understood in the public health literature but not examined in economics. I’m also examining broader sprawl-obesity links: my hypothesis is that sprawl increases requisite travel time, reducing leisure time available for exercising or eating healthily.

My one disappointment (and only failed New Year’s Resolution) is that I didn’t sign up for the July 4th 10K. But…it’s never too late. Dara Torres is setting world records when she’s 41, and I won’t be too old at 28 to run for under an hour…

The plan is to keep the posting up for the duration of the Olympics. First post was opening ceremonies, last will be – yes – closing ceremonies.

Enjoy me until the 24th…

The Return to Atlanta

Atlanta airport's intra-course hallway features a collection of African art. I was walked through the exhbit this afternoon on my return from Norwalk rather than the tram because (1) I like the walk and (2) I need to work off that pie I've been shoveling the last two days.

As I rode past on the Jetsons-style moving sidewalks, I watched an elderly lady viewing a piece of art while her grandson (I'm assuming) played in back of the sculpture The art itself: some Zimbabwean had carved a marble man complete with marble buttocks in the back where the little boy way playing. While the grandmother was admiring the sculpture from the front, the little boy was in the back fingering the marble man's marble buttcrack, poking at his marble butthole!

That's some pretty fucked up shit. I looked around expecting shocks of horrors or at least disapproving frowns, ideally from a group of nuns. However, the hall was empty - no one saw but me. That's how these things always go.

Sadly, my butt-themed afternoon didn't end there. Upon my return to the house, I found 20% remainder of dried poop on my floor, evidently someone did a halfhearted job of cleaning up. I really hope it was dog-poop but my landlord's sloppy Irish relatives are visiting, so who knows.

More sadly, after I cleaned up the dog poop, I changed into my older sneakers, and instantly felt a cool wet sensation as I put them on my feet. Yes, the dog/drunk relative had also peed in my closet, over my sneakers and bag of dirty laundry. So: Laundry time! I don't know if it's OK to put sneakers in the laundry machine, but I did it anyway.

A Family Visit and a City Explored

I love my Uncle Jim and Aunt Ann. They came down to visit today on the way to visit Jennifer in Florida. With them today a did bunch of things I might otherwise never would have:

1. Did the CNN Studio Tour - Total rip-off. It was the weekend and no live news was taking place. But at least I can now say I did it.
2. Max Lager's American Grill & Brewery - I'm 26 years old and tonight is the first night I sat down at a bar. I felt so adult to "sit at the bar". They had Budweisers; I had a Coke.
3. Ray's in the City seafood - The Parmesan-crusted scallops are excellent if you ever visit. The dinner was absolutely delicious. Uncle Jim confused mouthwash in the bathroom with hand soap and provided a continually humorous story for the course of the evening (and a minty-fresh smell). In his defense, why the hell was there mouthwash in the bathroom?
4. Hilton Lounge - Provided beautiful views of the city. I asked for a hot chocolate. The waitress asked how old I was. I asked what type of hot chocolate she was serving me (actually, I needed to be 18 to enter the lounge). We talked about their taking me on my first and only casino trip, trips to Riverside (now Six Flags New England), mentioned memories with Scott (although this made me depressed at the loss, rather than joy in recalling a fond memory). Ultimately, it made me understand how important family is to me, how lucky I am to have people in my life so supportive and nonjudgmental (yes, we talked about Becca earlier that afternoon). A lovely end to an amazing day.

It was truly a treat. I strangely feel guilt at having relatives who love me so selflessly. I don't deserve it; I've been so blessed. Thanks, guys.
-Your Nephew.

(On-)Edge-wood, Hotlanta

I've heard Southern U.S. economic/population boom is primarily the result of affordable air conditioning, making the region livable. Our air conditioner broke down yesterday and I'm ready to leave.

It's on life support. I walked in the house yesterday and felt it was significantly warmer. Nothing that could be characterized as "cold air" was coming out of the AC vents. Shutting it off for a while and turning it back on, cool air came out for long enough to give me false hope. Suddenly, the breeze turned noticeably warmer. Something is wrong. The landlord is still in Ireland until next week. I'll be able to escape to Decatur this weekend, but I feel bad for my roommate.

At college, the cheap bastards turned the central air on about three weeks after it should have been. I remember many a sweaty night. I would spend my free time at the library, which reliably always was the first (and for a time interval only) building to be air conditioned. Unfortunately, the generously air conditioned school buildings aren't across the street where I live now, and I'll have to go home at some point. But I may just be working some long hours the next week.

Beyond "The End of the Universe"

Comedian Lewis Black claims that The End of the Universe is apparent at a street corner in Houston, TX (South Shepard and West Gray, I hear). There, one Starbucks coffee shop sits across the street from another.

But I now know that the true end of the universe is in Atlanta, GA, in the Edgewood Retail District, where there are opportunities to buy Starbucks coffee in not one, not two, but three locations all facing into the same squared off district: the Barnes & Noble, the Target, and the Kroger (not just bags of coffee beans like at the grocery store - I'm talking fresh drinks).

What madness is this?

Last Days in the Apartment

A couple of my brother's friends from the block stopped by to offer condolences when I was home last, little George, who I didn't even recognize at first, is now going to be a senior. Senior year of high school was a happy time but paradoxically also a sad time - in the back of your mind, everything that happens is your "last". Your "last" first day of school. Your "last" Thanksgiving game. Your "last" concert/wrestling meet. Your "last" 'March 12th' at school. Finally, your last day of school. I shouldn't have used quotes at all...it really is your last.

This has been on my mind since yesterday afternoon, as I continue to pack up the apartment for tomorrow's move. Last night was my last dinner in the apartment, my last night sleeping there (I'm crashing at a friend's tonight), and so this morning was the last time I will wake up in what has been my home for two years. I'm about to go have my last breakfast.

I might post an opinion soon at http://www.blogger.com/www.apartmentratings.com (zip code: 30308). Currently the score is hovering at 22% approval...I'll probably knock it down a bit. The place has a great location - behind the grocery store and down the street from the MARTA station, but that's all it has. For the rent I'm paying, it's certainly overpriced. Oh well, you live and learn, and in the future I'll know better.

I'm nervous and excited as I get ready to begin this next chapter of my life. This is T.J., from the Savannah Midtown, signing off...

When 90 degrees seems cool...

Yesterday it hit 103 Fahrenheit in Atlanta; 110 with the humidity. Today it will be just as bad. I hope to crash with a friend this weekend, for whom utilities (particularly electricity) are included in the rent (i.e., fixed-rate). Turn on that air, baby!

Those global warming induced mild winters don't seem so great now, do they? I see the reinforcing cycle that could play out: global warming makes it hot, we burn out ACs, fossil fuels are used to produce electricity to power the air conditioning, more global warming occurs. They should put me in a documentary.

I walk to the MARTA and am drenched in sweat within two blocks. Vultures are circling by the time I get to the station. I pass the bleached bones of my neighbors, who unluckily had lived only a few blocks further.

I'm dreading the move next week...pushing furniture in this heat will probably be the death of me. *Thankfully*, it will cool ten degrees to a little over 90; I actually am looking forward to the relief.

When I moved into my New York City walkup, it was incidentally in the middle of a heat wave. Moving in and out of the DC dorms was always during the ungodly uncomfortable Washington summers. Because I don't have a fixed lease in the room I'm moving into (it's rather informal), I'd like to exercise a little foresight and see if I can plan my next move (and all future moves given most lease terms are for twelve month terms) for a more agreeable season.

I been everywhere, man...

I've seen five housing options in a 24-hour period beginning yesterday afternoon. Yeah, I know, that's not that many, but the point is I walked. At least 10.79 miles, according to Google Maps, but probably closer to 12 when you factor in what I didn't calculate. After the 7 miles I did yesterday, I physically hurt when I got up this morning. And they say it (the pain) is even worse the second day. I am giddy at the thought that I will sleep late tomorrow and not leave the room.

Starting yesterday:

#1 (1:30pm) - Duplex in Midtown. With three Georgia Tech PhD students. Good in being located in a familiar and liked location. Place is nice, although filled with windows with high ceilings. Potential roommates estimate summer electricity bill of $100 per person (I think about other utilities besides water). Potentials generally surprise me throughout my visit with a vast array of mathematical calculations. Money-wise, I realize they are just as greedy as me. Potentials would want a person to move in by August 1st to cover rent of vacant room; I want to stay in present room until 20th to avoid paying rent in vacant room.

#2 (8:30pm) - Apartment in Decatur. At a base rent of $285, and right near the Clairmont/North Decatur Publix great location, was perfect on paper...too perfect. Room is a vacancy in one room of a 3br. The place not so great, but expectations were low given rent. Guy takes me in the kitchen (again not much), and while talking about how he doesn't often cook, opens the cabinets to more crawling roaches than I can count. He lets out a scream like a schoolgirl, then closed the cabinets and told me he'd show me the room, maybe thinking I didn't see them or hear him. Upstairs met the friendliest, softest cat in the world, I reconsider the roaches in fleeting thought. Guy takes me downstairs to get to know me. Talks about himself, he was a theater major in college but now is a server at Einstein Bagels. I think of the lesson in that. Later says: "I have an alter ego" with a smile that lets me know he was about to drop some freaky shit on me. Tells me said alter ego is Fufu Gabore, (not really but something similar), that he is a drag queen performing in shows in Midtown and Buckhead. I become concerned alter ego may emerge, but leave respecting guy for putting all his cards on the table. Guy also asks me about friends, girlfriends, and as I try to speak cuts me off saying he would never bring a "person" home at night, believes it inappropriate to other roommates - quarters too close. I think that good Catholic boys do not have loud midnight sex in roach infested apartments. He seems concerned for my welfare on going home. Tells me he will put all my info into my file (each "applicant" for the vacancy gets a file) and will share with his roommate. I am amazed at thought of his pile of files; I think that he is an organized little SOB.

#3 (9:40pm) - House in Decatur. Am worried it's too late, walked two miles to get there by 7:30 to avoid late showing (post-8:30 appointment). Contact had assured she'd be there by 7:00, I find out she wasn't there yet after all. At 9:40pm, is too dark to read house numbers. I'm concerned neighbors will see me apparently "casing the joint" and call police. Finally call house, woman not home, deep-voiced man picks up, says lady not home, but gives directions to house and lets me in. Husband is man of few words. Shows me to room, which is disappointingly furnished. Husband leaves me alone in room. Middle School-aged girl walks by, gives look of unease at having stranger in house. I meet and share her look, think that situation would essentially means I join the family, integration so complete. Am not ready for spot at dinner table. Husband returns, tells me room is son's room, who is away at college. I have flash of son coming home to a room given away to a stranger, per A Clockwork Orange. Awkwardness sets in already. As I leave, am unsure if I am just weak from the walking but husband gives a shake that crushes my hand.

#4 (10:05am) - House in...Doraville? On walk from train station think that I will arrive at school each day with a sweat soaked shirt from the walk. Find house. House is being remodeled; guy says will be done for renters by next week, I would still be dubious if he said two years from now. House smells like wet dog. No carpeting anywhere; floor does not look level. Owner is 26 year-old male, has baseball trophies everywhere and a beer tap on the kitchen counter. Convinced he is type that peaks in high school.

#5 (12:05pm) - House in Decatur. With two Emory MA girls that will graduate in 2008. I love the kitchen. Girl says that they'll need to get washer/dryer, but generally seems clueless about furnishing a house. Potential's expression changes from smiling face to look of discuss at regular intervals as I talk to her; I become concerned I am saying the wrong thing or she is insane. Potential wants someone to move in my August 1st. House generally nice and walking distance to downtown, but at $575, is most expensive housing option I saw. Concerned that utilities will be a lot with only three-way split.

I have one more to see on Monday, a duplex that requires a bus to get to. Besides that, I think it has some promise (in terms of price - $525 for everything). On Monday there will be only four weeks until my lease expires (in practical terms, until I am forced to vacate). There are still vacancies at 710 Peachtree, but I'd like to avoid those crappy kitchens. Ironically, this is the place I visited June 30th, and I may end up there after so many other visits. I have an application saying the price is $550, but I recently called to confirm there were still vacancies and I heard the price went to $575.

Plus utilities. Sigh...

Local Lore

My 7th grade year I played for the Raiders in the Norwalk Pop Warner Leauge. As it was, our coaching staff was comprised entirely of policemen (both state and City of Norwalk). Their other common trait was that they all worked the night shift so our afternoon practices were effectively their morning routines. How our practice was to be that day depended on how rough their prior night was...I remember one of the more brutal practices was when an assistant coach (and Norwalk police officer) showed up to start practice with a busted hand and a mean scowl: "Some motherfucker thought he could take my head off last night...but I put him on his back...now fuckin' start running!!!!!!"

One evening, that same coach pointed pointed to an older man who sometimes came to the field to walk his dog. "That's One-Nut Willy. He's a child-molester that I've arrested eight times". Forever after that, if we saw the man after practice while waiting for our rides home, we circled in a defensive position like Wildebeest calling our to those that strayed from the herd, lest they fall prey to the voracious predator circling about.

It was of course probably entirely a crock or at the least an exaggeration. However, us being twelve-year-olds, we invented an entire backstory for the guy. My own personal telling was that he indeed only did have one "nut", but that he was something like the Headless Horseman, haunting the night to seek out young boys with whose genitalia he might replace his missing testicle.

Once a while on Peachtree here in Atlanta I see what I thought was a a flamboyantly gay/crazy homeless guy, who walks - nay, struts - around in hot shorts and a top hat, twirling a baton. Recently, a girl I met (and an Atlantan of eleven years) told me his name was Baton Bob and he too had a local lore. Supposedly, he was a successful Fortune 500 executive here in Atlanta. Then September 11th happened and he just wanted people to be happy so he walks around like that to cheer them up.

Holy shit. I was double-checking if I spelled "baton" correctly and Google spit out a Wikipedia article for Baton Bob. It's pretty close to the story I was told (except the executive part isn't true). He even has a website: http://www.batonbob.com/. So, it's only on Wikipedia, but supposedly even CNN interviewed him. I checked and One-Nut Willy does not have a webpage.

Certainly the stories told to me were embellished, but the embroidered versions are so much more fun. The enjoyment comes from our affinity as humans for storytelling. Stories are fun to tell, then embellish, and tell again. Local urban legends and perhaps even religions most likely get their start this way. Because the truth is probably much more banal, wouldn't we rather believe the sensationalism of the stories we invent for ourselves? Aren't they so much more interesting?

E.T. and me

Tonight I'm going to Screen on the Green at Piedmont Park; the movie showing is E.T., made back in Spielberg's hey-day (he hasn't made a good film since Jurassic Park) with a very young Drew Barrymore. It really is a good movie; an American classic. When E.T. and Elliot fly across the moon, I'm not sure if I'll be able to control my emotion.

In my backpack: blanket to lay on (check), mosquito repellent (check), Reese's Pieces to eat at the exact same time that E.T. does (check!!!).

So was E.T. like, Jesus? Remember the sermon of the good Reverend Lovejoy:

"I remember another gentle visitor from the heavens, he came in peace and then died, only to come back to life, and his name was E.T., the extra terrestrial. I loved that little guy."

But there's something to this. He was persecuted, did sort of die, but then came back to life. Elliot's family had a single mother named "Mary". He "resurrected" that flower (one of my favorite parts!). Um, and there's that scene where E.T. gets into drag....um, I haven't read the Good Book that closely, but maybe there's something similar in there somewhere....

So, as I close, in the words of E.T.: "Be good."