Oh Atlanta.My-lanta. Hot-lanta. It’s such a beautifully dirty city. The people are real and unapologetic. There’s a wonderful clash of old southern style and new urban energy. Its like Gone with the Wind meets BET. It’s like the older sister who’s super cool and always gets away with the shit that you never do.
We were going to Atlanta for several reasons. One was to test out our road trip skills; have a trial trek if you will. It was a good way to sort of preview what things might be like this summer.
Will we work together after long hours of driving? Are we going to fight over what music to listen to? Are we prepared for any situation we might find ourselves in? Turns out…we weren’t.
After trying to gain access into a long abandoned insane asylum, we now know that along with a normal everyday emergency kit (the kind with Band-aids and Neosporin) we’ll need to put together an emergency photographer’s kit.
What might that kit contain you ask? Well, it’ll consist of, but not be limited to, film (of course), wire cutters, a hammer, pliers, a step ladder, duct tape, flashlights, and gum. (MacGyver always uses gum)
We’ll need the kit for future instances like what happened in Atlanta. We weren’t able to get into the asylum due to dumbfuck kids. Apparently they had been breaking in and getting drunk or partying or some shit, so all the doors and windows were very well boarded up with wood and locked with chains.
Dumb kids. Didn’t they know we were trying to make art?? Why can’t you just get drunk and pass out in the back of a movie theater like normal people?
The drive down there was pretty uninteresting, except for a close encounter with a senior citizen who didn’t seem to know that you have to check the other lane before you merge into it. All I could say at the time was “No Grandma don’t”, very calmly. Valerie wont let me forget this.
So here we are…navigating Atlanta. GPS? We don’t need no stinkin GPS
And here we are having another truly intelligent and meaningful debate about one of music’s greatest songs.