Confused by Trivial Pursuit....
Last week's trip down to the great state of Georgia was a very welcomed and relaxing escape from all the everyday activites that have been swirling around my head for the past few months. Having been back a week, I can say with a bit of regret that none of those issues had taken the liberty to dissolve themselves while I was away, but that doesn't change the fact that the trip was enjoyable from end to end!
The trip started off on a pretty rocky note. After a fairly uneventful journey on public transportation to the airport (unless you call a construction worker asking you to hold his tool belt so he can scratch his bulbous belly eventful), the check-in line was nonexistant and the security was surprisingly smooth. Boarding started right on time and for some odd reason I was the first person to get onto the aircraft.
Woah! Woah! Georgia humidity stuns me.
I jaunted down the aisle full of energy and excitement to be getting away from Chicago, plopping myself down in my emergency exit aisle seat with extra leg room that I had somehow managed to get without upgraded. So far it was the best flying experience I'd had to date. That all changed when I was confronted a few minutes later with my aisle seat mate.
If you've ever watched the TV show
Airline on the A&E channel, you'll know that my comrade in air travel was what Southwest airlines (which I wasn't flying on, but still....) calls a "passanger of size". I don't mean to be offensive when I say that, because being an individual who has been of a considerable size himself at one point in his life, I don't particularly enjoy jokes that are tailored toward insulting those "of size".
The Olympic flame holder from the 1996 games, and the Georgia state capitol building in the background.
As soon as he sat down next to me, though, I knew without a doubt that I could not last the 2 hour flight to Atlanta with him next to me. His leg ended at the 1/2 way point of MY seat, having sprawled under and forcing the arm rest up into the air. I was literally propped up with my leg on top of his leg, leaning at a 45 degree angle approximately 5 inches from the head and shoulders of the gentleman in the window seat. The wide eyed looks of the people still boarding the plane as they walked down the aisle past us assured me that I was not over-reacting to the situation by thinking this wasn't A) comfortable, B) safe, or C) doable. The way his leg creeped into my side of the seat literally made it impossible for me to buckle my seatbelt because his thigh was covering the receptor.
Congradulations, 1982 Braves!
Out of politeness I held my protests though, knowing it wasn't in me to tell him he was simply too large to be sitting next to me. Luckily a flight attendent noticed the situation and after some discreet whispering in the man's ear, relocated him to a row of seats in the rear of the plane with no other passangers. I had an odd, throbbing back pain the remainder of my trip in Georgia, and I have a sneaking suspicion it was from the awkward lean against the other arm rest his intrusive leg caused for the 45 minute prior to take off. The flight to Atlanta, with my spacious leg room in the emergency row and the added comfort of having an empty seat with relocation of the other gentleman, was very pleasant.
On the ground in the ATL I met up with my wonderful host for all my trips to Dixie, Tommy, and we jetted off down the freeway in his land yacht (A.
The Japanese torii gate erected in my honor at the Georgia State Botanical Gardens. =)
K.A. Ford Expedition) for the Marietta Diner. I've never heard of it, but apparently it's a dining institution in the Atlanta area and has been recently featured on the Food network. The sandwich I had was pretty standard, but when it came time to order dessert my mouth began to water with eager anticipation when the largest slice of red velvet cake I have ever had the good fortune of laying sight up was placed on the table. It was delicious. Baked sex. Culinary cocaine. It was larger then life, and as much as me, Tommy, and his boyfriend BJ attacked it with forks at hand we were soundly defeated by the savory grandness of it all.
That night we hit up Turner Field for an Atlanta Braves game. The grounds themselves were interesting, particularly when you compare them to Wrigley Field, which is a mere 5-ish blocks from my house.
Goldenrods. I think.
They were sprawling and expansive, designed to hold quite a few people and sell them lots of things. I think that's why I disliked most about Turner Field: it felt more like a shopping mall then a sporting venue. The overtly commerical aspect of everything Turner related (CNN, Cartoon Network, etc...) seemed designed to provide an opportunity to take money from me at in every nook and cranny of the stadium. I guess Wrigley Field probably does the same thing, but if it does, I feel like the push and the blatant nature of it all seems much less in my eyes. The game was fairly uneventful, with the Braves actually posting a win for my visit. So far Georgia teams are 2-0 when I have attended their games, which leads me to believe I'm a bit of a good luck charm for the Peach State!
Friday was a low key day.
Game day is crazy in Athens, GA!
I slept in till around noon, and Tommy went into his office for a 1/2 day of administrative tasks. When he arrived back at his apartment we quickly found ourselves out and about in the city of Athens to enjoy the predictably hot and humid weather. We went to a nature preserve called Bear Hollow, and lazily wandered up and down some paved trails through the woods, occasionally stopping to glance into the cages that housed some animals from the area. We gazed upon quite a few owls, an alligator, a bald eagle, and an actual bear. At leat now I know where the park gets it's name. The bear was so cute, considering he was sprawled out on a platform sunbathing himself, only half awake as he yawned, stretched, and scratched himself. He really reminded my of Kaleb in some ways, expect he could kill me and Kaleb just pisses on my area rugs.
G. E. O. R. G. I. A!
The 2nd half of the day was spent at the State of Georgia's Botanical Gardens. The sun was really starting to beat down on us at this point, and with sweaty brows and sticky polos we wandered up and down the paths of the park gazing the assorted flora. I, naturally, was intrigued by the Asian section of the gardens. They had erected a torii gate in the middle of it, which thrilled my Japanese side to no end. Mentally I made a note that this was the state's way of thanking me for being their lucky sports charm. You're welcome Georgia!
Saturday was what has become a yearly tradition for me and Tommy: attending the opening football game of the University of Georgia! I had a great time doing this last year, and this year proved no different.
Yeah....
It was particularly interesting because over the summer the school's mascot, Uga VI, had passed away. They revealed for the first time the new school mascot, aptly named Uga VII, to a roaring capacity crowd of over 92,000 fans. The game itself proved to be fairly uneventful (last year's was too) since the opponent, Georgia Southern, was playing on a completely different level of the game and found themselves behind by about 40 points at half time. The thing I found most interesting about the game as the racial dynamics of it all.
Even though the state of Georgia is estimated at 67% white, there is still a sizable 30% that is estimated as African American. Each football game I've been to at UGA has always been a neverending sea of white faces though.
Useless knowledge. I have it.
With the make up of the fooball team being fairly evenly divided between white and black players, I've always been curious as to why the white population is the only one to show up, or why the black population feels like it shouldn't show up. Which isn't to say there aren't some black attendees, because there were. They were just so few that they actually stood out in my mind. In the middle of the 3rd quarter they stadium speakers blared out some hip hop music as the UGA players took the field, with some of the sidelined players dancing to the rhythm of the song. The man sitting next to me shouts out, "Look at that, just embarassing. Why we pretend they're like us and civilized is beyond me", to which the couple behind him said, "Well they can play some football though, so I guess we'll just learn to like it.
Good times, good friends!
" Now I know.
It was a disquieting event, though I didn't want it to ruin the rest of my vacation. My mother gets scared enough when I mention I'm going to Georgia, since even though she's Japanese and not too familiar with American history, rumors of "the South" are well known enough even in Tokyo to make her uneasy about her half-Asian son. I've never felt threatened or judged while in Dixie though, so that is a plus on my end. I can't say I haven't seen or heard others being singled out for harassment though. Oh, and when I checked out at the Kroger the cashier did say, "Have a good day, GRACIAS!" I didn't get it first, and then a few seconds later it dawned on me that he thought I was Latino. LOL!
That evening Tommy invited a few of his friends over for a small gathering to chit chat, drink, and play some board games, which was just the chill event I needed to calm down from the riotous activity that consituted that afternoon at the football game.
Kelly is real!
We all giggled and laughed with glee, enjoying the company of each other and doing our best to defeat all opponents in Taboo and Scattegories. There was a round of Trivial Pursuit but that game takes forever and we ended up just calling it quits for the moment. I really enjoy his friends, and each year that I come back they become more interesting to just kick back with and discuss life and times. They've always been very friendly, open, and welcoming to me, and I appreciate that about them to no end. It's almost like being at home while away from home, and there really isn't anything more you can ask of people then that.
Monday we headed back to Atlanta for a quick lunch with my friend Man-Kelly! I've "known" Kelly for quite a few years, since we read each other's journals when we were just young men finding our ways through the exciting world of college, so it was a special treat to meet him in person and actually have a conversation. He's just as charming, handsome, and dashing as he comes across on his journal, let me assure you. We didn't do anything too fancy, meeting up at the California Pizza Kitchen in Atlantic Station for some grubbing and gabbing. I even managed to make him smile a little, I think!
After a short hour of good conversation my trip to Georgia had to come to a close, and I said my goodbyes to both Kelly and to dear Tommy as I pulled my rolling luggage behind me through Atlanta's Hartsfield International. The flight home was, by contrast to the relatively enjoyable flight in, a completely hot mess. I won't get into too much detail but I'll sum it up with: angry, loud lesbians taking up 1/2 the plane on their way home from Black Pride 2008, leaky air conditioning on my shirt/face/Ipod/book, broken overhead compartment, ditzy flight attendant.
A uncomfortable, though very interesting, end to my mini-vacation.
More trip photos available at: My Flickr
