Madlanta

Atlanta's motto: "It's not road rage, it's natural selection."

I spent all day yesterday in Atlanta, home of the planet's most versatile form of self-destruction - Coca Cola - and I left feeling curious how people who live there get anything accomplished.  Workdays are 12 hours long, but only 4 are spent actually working; the other 8 are spent in traffic.  I secretly wondered if General Sherman was back in town, so many people clogged the roads in a rush to get somewhere else.  My work took me downtown to Peachtree Street, the quiet avenue where Rhett and Scarlett pushed their baby carriage under sun-dappled trees in Gone With the Wind.  Today, that same street is a canyon of concrete, treeless for miles, thick with zooming cabs, and echoing with impatient horns. Despite my concern that Charlotte wants desperately to be just like Atlanta, I'm glad to be home.