of Baseball, Georgia, and Talking Heads

27 June, 2009


‘Home, is where I want to be, pick me up and turn me round’

Talking heads lyrics running through my head, while I’m in Atlanta, visiting Eli. I always thought Home was where ever he was, but home, is apparently, where I work and sweat and toil and shower in my own smells and my own ways. After three days in Hotlanta, I am now quite certain, where before I was only inclined, that I am NOT a city person. There are very few things one can do in the city that can not be done in a normal-sized population- except, of course, for waiting in long lines, avoiding killer traffic and cramming into apartments the size of shoe-boxes.

Eli has some tickets for a Braves/ Red Socks game today- I’ve never been to a baseball game before, and while I thought I wanted to go, as the heat of the day bakes into the Georgia hills I’m slowly rethinking the outing. In fact, I think I want to go home. But, how to tell Eli.

I could, I know, have a decent time taking pictures of the super-fans, the super-celebrities, and the super-drunk, but I think, I think I’d rather watch the interstate in the rear-view.


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