Sight seeing in Atlanta is sort of a drag. Now that New Orleans is rapidly becoming a Disney version of itself the panhandlers have obviously moved to Lana Joja. You couldn’t take ten steps without someone or something crawling out and begging. After a few handouts you become hardened and expect a service for your pittance. Which most are ready to do and actually have directions handy on the tips of their dirty tongues.
I spent my childhood hearing all sorts of things about the famed Atlanta Underground. “You simply must go,” they said. When I arrived it had become a desolate wasteland in dire need of resuscitation. Bum central it was with a MARTA station right across the street and a trail of chicken bones leading to the steps of the nearby KFC.
Then an artistic cultural moment presented itself when I spied this sculpture.
I had a Sartorialist moment when I spotted a European chic sporting this yellow togged outfit. I was too late to catch her frontally but was fortunate to catch her behindedly.
Centennial Park is what’s left over from the O-lympics and has synchronized dancing water jets in the shape of the rings. Many people step inside the rings for a photo-op then get trapped inside then panic and then get drenched trying to escape. It’s most amusing. Must keep ever vigilant for the bomb squad!
These little guys were so funny racing their stroller around and crashing up the place.
Where it all started folks! This is the evil headquarters of the world’s most addictive substance.
Chess Park was fun. Really it was positively bursting with frenzied activity.
Atlanta is Obama country even if the rest of the state is undecided.
I finally tracked down the headquarters of the prestigious law offices of Matlock.
Last image is my favorite the Herman Munster Mailbox.