introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In Atlanta 14:02:06 - 2001-03-10 Good morning, my darlings. I've a puppy that refuses to sleep so long as there are people awake and, to my dismay, there were people awake very early. Now that I cannot possibly return to sleep, she konks out on me. Lovely. *looks outside* Did I mention we have snow? Snow. Snow. Definitely snow. I know that earlier in the week I said that I was glad to return to the land where spring comes when it is supposed to, but c'mon now. Perhaps I'm being fickle and indecisive, no? Regardless, it was the ass-crack of dawn and yours truly was outside letting Verbil do her thing and there were about 6 mourning doves that were questioning, much as I am, as to why, exactly, there is snow on the ground in mid march. I don't know. Blame that damned Punxy Phil. Blame those bastards at the weather channel. I don't care who you blame, just get RID of it, already. I'm ready to start wearing sandals, dammit. K. So, I rarely write things for my family, as many of you know. Its not an easy subject for me, all the time. But, having spent three days with my mother in a foreign city, sometimes, I guess we learn to appreciate them a little more. Or, maybe I'm being soft and sentimental? These things happen. ~In Atlanta: for my Mother~ there are no beautiful sunrises in atlanta, at least not from the west side of the Sheraton. there are no days without wind in atlanta when there is a noreaster blowing across new england and parts of new york. there are no gay bars in atlanta that aren't six miles from the marta train stop. there are no mcdonalds in atlanta but that wasn't really a problem. sure, they've got peaches and Peachtree Street, (which happens to run across the length of the state, i'm convinced.) Margaret Mitchell, CNN and the World of CocaCola, Planet Hollywood, and another Hard Rock Cafe and enough corporate headquarters to make a Ralph Nader supporter ill, but there are no beautiful sunrises in atlanta. The moon comes up at three p.m. faint, waiting for the night life to begin, ready for me to find some company for dinner, ready for me to end another day of solitude. there are no beautiful sunrises in atlanta, and believe me, i checked every morning when her alarm went off and she rose so easily, showered and dressed and even in sleep, i could smell the familiar scent of my mother: gold leaf and something else.... believe me, i checked when i heard her leave, and return again, leaving bits of breakfast for me to find when i got up to start my own day. she'd leave and go to her corporate world with her conventions and keynote speakers, her business lunches and seminars while I slept til the day was bright and breezy, because, as i said, there are no calm days in atlanta. and when i'd wake and bath and dress and collect my maps and bus schedules and depart, she was mingling with business men on cell phones. while i looked at degas and heard about mary cassat, she was living a separate life completely, in that i might not have recognized her if i'd seen her, but for the familiar scent of my mother. there are no beautiful sunrises in atlanta, but the sunsets are superior, believe me, i saw them each evening, as i returned to our room, trodding down courtland avenue, watching the moon start to glow stronger as the sunset behind me. there are no beautiful sunrises in atlanta, for she's leaving me alone, but when the sun sets, we meet again, and her company is satisfying and the adventures run high (its not every woman nearing fifty who will walk two miles in the frigid wind to find a resteraunt she's not sure even exists; its not every woman nearing fifty who braves an unfamiliar urban area after nine o'clock.) and slumped in the train car, we count stops til peachtree centre, atlanta's business district, home of the peachtree mall, land of planet hollywoods and hard rock cafes, and plod the two city blocks back to our room to sleep; to wait for the day to grow bright again, knowing there are no beautiful sunrises on the west side of a hotel room in atlanta. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .what came before. - .what happened next. a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017 |
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