The Land of the Peach and the Home of the Braves

Mari says that I may only write this entry if I am neither overly sanctimonious nor overtly preachy; not that I would ever be either... Harumph!
We arrived at our luxurious digs (Motel 6 yet again) in Cartersville, a few miles north of Atlanta, late yesterday afternoon, just in time to go to dinner at my "baby" brother's house in this surprisingly quaint little slice of rustic Americana. (Cartersville is red-bricked and nestled in a valley between the rolling foothills of mountains I'm not sure I ever realized were here; my previous experience in Georgia being largely centered around the somewhat less picturesque squalor of Columbus and Fort Benning.) At Sean's lovely home, we finally met his wife of eleven years, Jennifer, and their two angelic daughters-- astoundingly precocious Adair, aged 8, and her unfailingly adorable little sister Meleah, 6 1/2. Though grateful for the enormous blessing of this too-long-delayed meeting, I also found myself remorseful that circumstance had separated our families by a still rather large continent. (Can it really be that the rest of the world is actually unconvinced of the Northwest's vast and irrefutible superiority? Go figure!)
Today, I was again surprised by the thrumming vitality and gentility of a city I had hardly ever considered outside of cursing the Braves and acknowledging the region as the home of the magnificent Food network genius, Alton Brown (More about him a little later...)
Now, Mari had planned this stop, insisting that we tour CNN headquarters in support of her ambition to one day produce and direct television. I had been figuring all along that, what the heck, we'd zoom in and out of the city, get happily robbed parking downtown, and be back at the hotel, poolside before noon. Silly boy!
The CNN tour was fascinating; we got to ride the worlds largest, free-standing, escalator, observe the actual CNN newsroom that you mere mortals see only on television, even as Daran Kagen expertly delivered a 60th anniversary tribute to, of all things, the bikini; we also got to see the Headline News newsroom and studio, all in the air-conditioned comfort of a spectacular atrium. Before even beginning our CNN adventure, we wandered around the adjacent and historic Centennial Olympic Park on a gorgeous, if slightly sticky-warm Georgia morning.
After CNN, we drove out of our extremely convenient and not-too exorbitantly priced parking spot and headed east a couple of miles to a hastily added item on the itinerary, an elderly but dignified little neighborhood that it's most famous resident knew as "Sweet Auburn." While I have always been a great admirer of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and would readily acknowledge his place very near the top of the pantheon of great American patriots, I was legitimately and seriously moved by this morning's visit to the MLK national historic site. In the "park headquarters," there was an informative and thoroughly modern mini-museum succinctly chronicling Reverend King's life and contributions to improving the human condition. Just across Auburn Street, at the corner of Jackson, where it has stood for a century was the iconic Ebenezer Baptist Church where Dr. King and his fater both served as pastors. (Check this out: I, an historically astute prospective student of a Baptist seminary, was privileged enough to get to sit in the very front pew of this humble little church building, gazing at the pulpit while MLK, himself, sermonized from speakers. I could just imagine the sanctuary, jammed to the rafters on any given mid-century Sunday, as a truly gifted, true American hero expertly held forth on critical issues of the day.) This might have been the highlight of my whole Circle Tour experience so far; I really didn't want to leave. We capped our tour with a viewing of his and Mrs. King's stately tombs and by taking a brief look at the house where Dr. King was born. (Ironically enough, on a pedestal along the short walk from the free parking lot to the park headquarters, there stands a life-sized statue of Mohandis K. Ghandi, an obvious inspiration for some of King's own closely held convictions on passive resistance. I say it's ironic because I was immediately put in mind of words spoken in tribute of Ghandi that may have been even more accurately applied to Martin Luther King, especially in light of our stirring visit to the King site. I apologize, as I quote India's last viceroy, the late Lord Mountbatten, for any inaccuracy: "Future generations will scarcely believe that one such as [the Mahatma] ever, in flesh blood, walked upon the earth.")
Anticlimactically, then, we finished up our downtown tourist circuit at the nevertheless fun, if mercernary, World of Coca-Cola. We especially enjoyed the antique Coke memorabilia and the opportunity to sample some of the more popular soft-drinks from other cultures around the globe (Stoney Ginger Beer, from South Africa was my personal favorite.)
However, we Doyals are nothing if not slightly eccentric-- witness a 10,000-mile "vacation" conducted in the midst of an unprecedented heatwave in a constantly shrinking Dodge Stratus. That being the case, we have long been devotees of the Food Network's culinary guru, Alton Brown and his cooking show, "Good Eats." We often noticed, in our wrapt experience of his gastronomic demagoguery, that he would shop at a particular grocery store in someplace called Alpharetta, Georgia. Well, when we planned this insane shebang, how could we possibly miss the opportunity to make a pilgrimmage to the Whole Foods in Apharetta? So, we didn't-- I paused respectfully at the pepper display where Mr. Brown taught me the characteristics of Capsacin...
It's been a pretty darn decent couple of days.