Going for a Drive

A much needed long weekend,

but bittersweet to be spending it alone

in Atlanta.

After catching up on sleep, and work,

revisiting my favorite neighborhoods,

and hitting a few good consignment stores,

I went for a drive.

 A past time from my youth,

often suggested by my father.

Money was tight, but gas was cheap

and there was always some place within 30 minutes worth exploring.

My parents would pack us into the car and onto the backstreets of the Garden State we would go.

After college, my job in research at MTV afforded me the opportunity to travel domestically.
I would take advantage of having a rental car and go for drives
exploring neighborhoods I'd seen in movies,
or read about in travel magazines.
It was on those business trips I first discovered Highland Park, Illinois,
Tucson, Taos, San Francisco, and Los Angeles.
I vividly remember the first time I drove the winding streets in the Hollywood Hills.
Pre GPS, I wandered directionless.
  Getting lost was part of the adventure, and I wondered about those who resided in this magical neighborhood.

Today, I drove 20 miles north of Atlanta to Marietta.

Initially selected as the hub for the new Western and Atlantic Railroad, business boomed in the late 1880s.  However, in 1840, political wrangling stopped construction, and in 1842, the railroad's new management decided to move the hub from Marietta to an area that would become Atlanta. 

Downtown was easy to find due to the large central square decked with flags and reenactment soldiers for the holiday.

I had a fresh fish tacos for dinner at a local restaurant

and snapped a few photos of the fountain.
The streets off the square were lined with large homes with wrap around porches
and empty wicker chairs.  A perfect invitation for ice tea and Southern gossip.