Sunday, January 08, 2006


I got up kind of late. Maybe about 8:30 or 9 on Saturday. My mother took the car to get serviced which was cool, because she was there for a little while and I would have been there forever if I got there at 10:00 or 11:00 am. She also bought some food from the store for the trip and for me to give my cousin when I got to Atlanta. Meanwhile, I got my clothes together, got my suitcase out and looked up the directions on mapquest. I also looked up information on the Goethe Institute for their location. I need to take their placement test to see which certificate I want to aim for. I don't plan on using the cookbook translation as proof of language competence, I could not complete the job the way I wanted after entering the hospital a year ago. Not proud of my job, though the editing job I did for a book before that, I am proud of.

Once I got the car at about 11:00 I went to the bank to deposit my check and got a Double Latte Machiato at Provience in Hillsboro Village. Then I went to the bookstore and bought a book on Modern Persian. Used. It was only $7.95. Then I picked up wine for my cousin. I bought him one bottle of Kaiken Malbec (he loved it, I have tasted better . . . Trepiche I believe is the label . . . great, like candy), a bottle of Ste. Michelle Gewurztramener, one Fontana Pinot Grigio and one bottle of Bogle Petite Sirah (I loved it, cuz was not impressed . . . at least we got a bottle each to swig down). Then I went home. Called my Persian co-worker. Told him about the book. He told me about every club available in Hotlanta. He was so happy about it and my trip. I think Nashville puts you in a rut, especially if you live single or like guys or what have you. It gets to be small real quick, and the orientation of the city (not in the sexual sense) is undecided. People don't know where things are going. There are the clubs that are old staples like The Chute and then there are these other clubs like Play and Tribe that are new and sparkly and warm and fuzy, but quickly turn into the same old watering hole after a while. Atlanta gives spice and edge and a destinct flavor that is becoming more and more Atlantan everyday. It is defining its own party. I am happy about that. And so is the Prince of Persia (we all call my co-worker that because he is beautiful and dashing and exotic and so vain . . . but in a funny and self-conscious way. He knows it and can become like Laurel and Hardy so quickly that you don't mind discussions concenring his foot scrub).

Then I showered. I packed the car. Skipped dinner. Went to Target. Bought a 16 pack AAA ultra Engergizers for my insulin pump (medical expense about 8.00 dollars . . . not covered by insurance ever), a Guiness shirt and hat (I have a cyst on the back of my head, can't go to a new city with that on my head . . . the price of vanity 14.00 dollars), deoderant (can't be stinkin'), showgel (Irish Spring bar soap does not travel well). Added battery to my pump with the hood of my trunk up. Then drove to work to return the wine key to the bartender. Then got on the road. Got on 24 East. Stopped at Exit 111 to go the batherroom and buy some Red Bull. I was tired. Then I went to a winery. Bought a table red to go with the other 4 bottles and the food my mom bought cousin. Then I drove on. Stopped at Nick-a-Jack Lake for a piss again. Drove over Mount Eagle at the precise moment of twilight, it felt so good. The view was something born out of my body and the universe. Just a massive body of earth that cut the horizon in half. I love the vastness of America. I really do.

Went from 24 to 75 South in Chatanooga. Drove to cousins neighborhood. Reminded me of DC driving through, but his apartment is so wonderful I can't even explain. We talked. Opened the Malbec. Gotta pizza. Then went to a club. I won't say anything else till I decide if this site will be intellectual or . . . screw it! . . . upon the request of the Prince of Persia we went to Swinging Richards. The boys are completely naked and dancing like a in stripping scene from a Wyclef Jean video. Very sexy, very Atlanta style show with all the trappings of heterosexuality . . . champagne room and all. We were a bit bored I think, and I ended up talking to people more than gauking . . . but this is definitely the idea I had in my mind of Atlanta before getting there. Just a crunked out place . . . except the club has no black boys. We have to go to a different bar for that I guess.
Race and faggots. . . . do we have a mini-series on that yet? Or should we call Ken Burns for the documentary?

Got to Cuz's home. Talked a bit. Drank some more wine. Fell asleep watching the UNCF telethon's tribute to Stevie Wonder. It was being aired here in Atlanta. Saw Yolanda Adams, Kim and Herbie Handcock. Kirk Franklin had a set, but this whole 20 year addiction to porn starting at 9 is a bit much. I have to read the article in Jet, but why should we be taught such shame concenring our bodies and natural urgies. After all. He was only 9. It is not like he has been doing lines of cocaine since 9. We all have been trying to figure out our woodies since that age at least and for me, it still continues.


Gotta go.

It is already the next day here.

Having a late lunch and more wine!

Monday I will do some work . . . family tree and Goethe institute top the list. But also see if this is a place where I could stay for a while. Maybe. It is normal. Like you can buy wine in the grocery market. Not in Nash Vegas (some rich white patrons called it that to me one time at work . . . I liked that lady who said it, the way she said it, and how much it is the truth). Coloured folks call it Cashville . . . go figure. Stuttgart Germany is called Stuggie Town but the hip hop community. And Heilbronn is called Heilbronx by my old German friends because of the crime and poverty I guess.

But back to wine. Buying it in the grocery . . .

. . . NOT POSSIBLE IN NASHVILLE! Though we have 26 wineries in the state. And we were a state full of grapes until prohibition and people were forced to pull their grapes from the ground and plant tobacco. That is what the lady said at the winery. I think we need to call Ken Burns to check that out too.

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