tagged

I didn't get a chance to eat at Louise's before it closed down. It happened so fast I didn't realize it until the locals began throwing up their tags across the roof. In any case, it seems to be under renovation. That leaves Ponce with two soul food restaurants, Mary Macs and Eats. Southern cooking is possibly the one thing I decided a while back never to take guests (a.k.a. Yankees) to on a first visit. It takes a little convincing and even then, some people just can't fathom the idea of eating homestyle meals in a restaurant. Personally I love the stuff, but lately i've been trying to keep my daily calorie intake to under 8,000, which keeps me away from the meat & threes.

sidedoor

This is just going to be a sample. The Atlanta Rollergirls have set up shop next door at the Yaarab Shrine since March and it took me three months to get a ticket to one of their roller derby matches. I finally got in (and permission) to photograph last week's bout which was the fourth straight sellout for the league. Due to the length of time between matches and the number of people I talked to, I don't think I'll be able to post this slideshow for another month. In any case, the athletes have been very approachable and great to talk to, even though they seem best known for knocking the snot out of one another on the track.

charles

I had the chance to meet Charles Knox at his home in Druid Hills. He was inviting and informative, giving me an ample background on his experience. Knox retired from teaching in 1995 after serving as a music professor at Georgia State and still composes when he has the chance. His latest piece, "In Ecclesiis" will be performed this Sunday by the choir at Druid Hills Presbyterian on Ponce. The title translates as "in congregation".

evidence

One of the hydrants near the halfway house was knocked off its moorings. It reminded me of two things. One is the utter disregard that drivers use while traveling on Ponce. The second was a curious scenario that happened earlier in the day.

I went for a jog down Charles Allen on my way to the park. On my way back I took the same route and a few blocks down from Ponce I began to hear a piercing whistle. There was a small road crew lumbering around the site and a backhoe standing inanimate near a medium-sized divot in the asphalt. The crew had blocked off the road but the sidewalks were open and I proceeded to try and slip past the construction.

When I got closer I began to inhale powerful fumes and suddenly realized the crew had hit a gas pipe. The whistle was methane blasting through some breach in the underground pipes. I was almost on top of the scene by the time I realized what was happening, but the crew gave me a primarily glance and then ignored me. They were strangely clam, stoic faced despite the toxic, flammable material filing the area and their lungs. I scooted past them and continued several yards past the leak before pausing to look back. Again the workers, mostly twenty-somethings who appeared as apathetic as high school stoners, were still milling about, as if it was no big deal.

I jogged on up the street. In the distance I could hear sirens blaring, their screeching horns gaining ground. I turned off Charles Allen as a slew of fire trucks and APD cars flew down towards the leak. I looked back over the treetops, waiting for an explosion or yelling, but nothing happened. By all accounts, the leak was fixed and no one was hurt. The relaxed look of the road crew still sticks in my mind. I wonder how often that happens in this town to make someone act so indifferent.

peters house

overexposure

My camera was originally designed to take mercury batteries. They have long since been outlawed due to their poisonous aspect and now I have to piece together a working power source from hearing aid batteries and aluminum foil. While not perfect, they usually give fairly accurate exposure meter readings. The question is, how do you know when it's time to change them?

Usually when you develop a roll and your frames are three stops overexposed.

warmth

The heat is turning from a welcome guest to scorching enemy and summer is officially in full swing. Adandoned building fires are becoming less common due to the warm temperatures. Their temporary tenants no longer have to resort to candles or open fires to stay warm.

The foreclosure market has left patches of Atlanta resembling a ghost town. We recently toured a street in Kirkwood where every house was either a foreclosure or marked for teardown. Two blocks over, houses were asking $300K. Even Midtown is affected and foreclosed properties and houses dot a landscape where the median income is nearly $50 thousand.

I walked by an affluent, unfinished apartment building just off Ponce. As I happened by, a ragged man walked up to the back door and pried the door open. It was broad daylight and he looked around before entering, noticing me. He studied me for a moment. I guessed he was evaluating if I was a threat or a narc. After a few second of eye contact he vanished into home and closed the door behind him.

majestic

I got busy with work and phone calls that I almost missed the fact a man was abducted Baghdad-style from the front of the Majestic. Parts of the street can be shady, but this was different. Thankfully, he was ok.

I'm still putting together a new audio slideshow about a building restoration. While trying to get permission to interview subjects for this upcoming piece, some phone calls were made on my behalf to a media coordinator. I didn't wait for her to get back to me and instead relied on a overseer who was onsite. He granted me access and I got a brief interview the next day. The funny part is the media coordinator returned an email five days after the interview was concluded and told me everyone was far too busy to be speaking and could not help me. I've learned that if you rely solely on intermediaries you might as well just give up.