Just recently I felt compelled to defend the city of Philadelphia. Not because of any overwhelming love I have for it, unlike my friend V. who I think is more Philadelphian than, I don't know, the Kellys? I jumped to its defense because it is, in a way, currently my city and also because the reasons given just didn't seem to make that bad a case against poor Philly. (Fine, I also took up its cause because I felt a little like being ornery just for fun.)
It never occurred to me--surprisingly, given who the exchange was with-- that I have my own little one woman boycott of a city as well, for reasons that probably don't make sense, either.
You could not pay me enough money to step foot in Atlanta ever again.
***
Back in 1998, when our company's stock was booming and the money being thrown at the various teams' budgets, including training, seemed endless, I was sent to 4 different conferences. The very last one was in Atlanta; by that time, the shine of getting to be away from work and having a lot fun both during the day and then especially after hours, with no worries about hangovers and such, was wearing off. Nevertheless, I still looked forward to it.
Within 48 hours of arriving, I had lost my wallet, my luggage had been lost (okay, so far, not really a reflection on Atlanta, as much as Atlanta's bad mojo), I was trying to get out of the smoking, closet sized room that had been assigned to me by mistake without much success since all the hotels were packed for the conference (the size I could handle; the stale, leftover smoke--despite having been a smoker in college--I could not), and apparently downtown Atlanta on a weekend night was the MOST BORING place in the world to be, with no decent food that could be easily found on foot. We (my coworkers and I) ended up eating pop-tarts and soda for dinner the first night.
(No one had thought to book a car or look up places to eat or hang out ahead of time, because for once I had refused to be Polly Planner and wanted to teach the rest of the guys a lesson. What's that about cutting off your nose to spite your face?).
To top it all off, when we did finally go out to a nice dinner the second night, I ended up with food poisoning, and puked my way through the first two days of the conference and training. At least the bathrooms at the conference center didn't stink of smoke.
***
To be fair--because that is what I am, even when mistreated by a city and it's mojo so badly--I do have two very good memories of Atlanta. One was a seafood place we went to, which was all done rough and rustic and had newspapers for tablecloths. (Wait, was it seafood or ribs? Doesn't ribs make more sense? You know why I don't know? Because I had already had a very happy hour beforehand celebrating the return of my luggage, as well as a replacement credit card fedexed to me. I'd also stopped puking. Anyway...) I remember it being very loud and very fun and then having to sit outside, to get rid of my dizziness, on these HUGE rocking chairs (I kid you not, I was felt like the clown from Big Comfy Couch.) Rocking in one of those chairs, away from the noise, and buzzed but no longer drunk, was probably the most relaxed I was the whole trip.
The very best thing about Atlanta was the time I spent on a break from a class, hanging out at one of the lounges in the conference center and ended up coming away with a brand new CD. I'd decided to skip a session and so when I got to the lounge, it was mostly empty, except for an older guy who was listening to some music. He really seemed to be enjoying it and when he noticed me watching him, seemed friendly enough for me to ask what he was listening to. That's how I found out about Cesaria Evora, whom I'd never heard of until then; he was listening to Miss Perfumado, which he'd just bought. I found the samples I heard just delightful--the voice was so warm and sultry and inviting. I said as much and--seriously, the random generosity of strangers never fails to surprise me--he insisted I take it, and not to worry, he could buy another copy. (I could claim meeting him and staying in touch all these years, however infrequently, was another Atlanta highlight but he was from Colorado, so no, I don't think so!)
My own favorite Cesaria Evora is her Sao Vicente album. It makes me happy, and is excellent to listen to when you are down or when it is rainy weather (rainy weather makes me happy, that's why I make a distinction between it and being sad.)
Sao Vicente De Longe - Cesaria Evora
Tiempio y Silencio - Cesaria Evora
