Adventures Under Ground
November
19
Slow
start today, mainly to make up for last night. After I sent yesterday’s e-mail
report, I went to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. It was about noon. And of
course, this isn’t New Jersey, so you can’t upset the natural order of the
universe by getting breakfast at that hour.
I
ordered Brunswick stew, a favorite of mine that I have enjoyed many times in
North Carolina. Also a little hair of the dog in the form of a Stella Artois.
It’s lager and that makes it a good breakfast beer.
The
stew wasn’t quite what I expected. It was more like the West Virginia idea of
barbecue—ground beef in barbecue sauce, in other words, sloppy Joes. Throwing
kernels of sweet corn in it made it Brunswick stew, I guess. Barbecue beef gives
me indigestion. It’s one of the few food combinations I can’t eat. It’s eight
in the evening and I’m still feeling it.
But
this is part of the broadening experience of travel. You get to see different
takes on culture. That’s worth a little indigestion now and then, I guess. but
I’m not going to overlook their serving me a nearly flat beer.
It
wasn’t the waiter’s fault, and he was a nice guy. But if I go there again, I’m
going to stick to something mainstream, like hamburger. Or peanuts and little
dried fish like the appetizer at the Taiwanese restaurant in Kowloon. How
can you screw that up?
Underground
Atlanta is kind of fun. It’s a 20-minute walk from here. Back in the 1920s the
city elevated three streets so they would cross above the railroad tracks in
the center of town rather than cross them at grade. The railroads are where the
city came from. They all crossed
here carrying the goods the slaves made. That’s one reason that Sherman burned
the place.
After
the viaducts went up, street level became the old second floor. The old first
story, with the original shop fronts, was now below ground and was used for
storage and speakeasies.
It
became gentrified later, maybe in the 60s. It’s now a mall. The main street is
two blocks long and the cross street is shorter. Stores sell souvenirs, shoes,
clothes, and there are a few chain restaurant franchises. They also have video
games, kiddie rides, old trucks, and a railroad exhibit complete with sound
effects. There are statues, recorded music, and if you think New Hope, Pa.,
meets Six Flags (only much smaller), you’ll just about have it.
One
of the statues commemorates the intersection as a grifters’ gathering place. In
addition to con men, snake oil salesmen, and other clever sorts, it was also a
place where entertainers could try to pick up some spare change, like the man
with the dancing bear.
You
can’t see it in the photo, but when you get up close, the bear trainer’s suit
is rumpled and frayed, and he’s missing a button from this coat. Very cool
indeed.
You can buy beer in a hidden street called Kenny’s Alley
that is outside the enclosed area. I know this because that’s where I took a break in the Jamaican
Restaurant and Lounge to look over my newly acquired guidebook from the Atlanta
Visitor’s Center upstairs at street level.
I
forgot to ask them about the Hartsfield-Jackson Airport.
I
was drinking Heineken because that was the only thing the lounge had on tap
that wasn’t made by Anheuser-Busch, which I find too light for my taste, even
the Amber Bock. Red Stripe is the national beer of Jamaica, at least when it
comes to exports, but I have never seen it on tap.
The
photo of the day shows the Georgia State Capitol dome being attacked by Mothra.
You may have heard about that on the news.
The
giant antennae are a decorative installation over one of the entrances to the
Underground.
I
went to see the Fox Theater for some reason I can’t fathom. Probably because it
was near a place called the Publik Draft House. It is kind of strange to see a
quaint old structure among the office and residential towers. It has a dome
topped by a Moslem crescent. that’s part of the strangeness, too, because
although it was called a mosque when it was built, it never was a real one. It
was originally the meeting hall of the Shriners, who are mostly Protestant.
The
Publik Draft House had Southern fried chicken on the menu. There was mashed
potatoes with gravy, too. Since it fights cholesterol, I had a couple beers,
both local, to go with dinnert. One was a slightly too sweet stout called
Jailhouse Breakout. The other was from the Sweetwater brewery (maker of the 420
pale ale). It was an India pale ale called Low Ryeder. It was hoppy, lighter in
flavor than a bitter, a Belgian, or an Irish red, but a bit stronger than many
IPAs. Like the 420, I’d have that one again.
Believe
it or not, that was it for Harry for the day.
He
passed at least two bars on the way back and didn’t even think of going in for
one more.
It’s
9 p.m. Do you know where your correspondent is? He’s getting ready to crash. He
must be getting old.
Harry
Hi Harry,
You got me questioning the status
quo of passing through life accepting all the names and places on the
superficial face value… so this is what I found out…
Unfortunately the Jackson portion
does not hail from such a prestigious lineage as the Virginia Jacksons, but
this is what I found out from a very detailed history of the airport website (http://www.atlanta-airport.com/Airport/ATL/Airport_History.aspx
)
“October 2003: To honor late Atlanta Mayor Maynard H. Jackson, the
Atlanta City Council legislated a name change of the Airport.
Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport recognizes the visionary
leadership that both William B. Hartsfield and Jackson had for the Airport.
Hartsfield-Jackson, the world's busiest passenger airport for the fourth
consecutive year, stands as a testament to two of the city's greatest leaders.”
Dee Dee keeps
asking when you and JoAnn are coming back to the Phoenix area.
Bill
Thank you, Bill.
I can use that.
There are so many things named
Peachtree down here that they may not have room for much Stonewall Jackson. A
city map, though, shows a Stonewall Street in the area known as Downtown.
Harry
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