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Happy birthday to the best 12-year old on the planet
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TAKIN’ ME BACK
Was out for a run the other day and was listening to my clip on iPod. It holds about 400 or so songs so it never really gets stale and since it is set to random it also sometimes oddly juxtaposes songs against each other. Prince followed by Lucinda Williams, etc. Today was interesting to me because Dwight Yoakam’s “Guitars, Cadillacs” played and was immediately followed by “Guitar Town” by Steve Earle. I was instantly thrown back in time to when my sister and I were moving my brother Richard back to Atlanta from Washington DC. In DC he was the country music buyer for Tower Records. So on the trek south we listened to a lot of cool music most of which I was hearing for the first time. Those two songs which are sentimentally among my favorites will always be linked together in my mind. It was my introduction to mssr’s Yoakam and Earle (as well as the Pogues - Now, if Sick Bed of Cuchulainn had been the next song on the iPod it might have gotten spooky).
My brother Richard, when he was alive was always pushing new music in my direction (and on everybody else too). Through good times and bad this has always remained a constant with Richard. I hope I’ll always remember this about him.
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Add an NFC Championship Game win and the successful debut in MBS. I think our friends from Green Bay are welcome just about anytime in the ATL
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Demon Pig Beastie
Coming home from work the other night this is the sight I saw from my car at 2:30 am. Now normally I’m dead tired and am happy just for arriving alive back at the ol’ hacienda and rarely take notice of my surroundings but this was too stark to ignore.
A wreath my neighbors use to decorate their domicile. A warming touch to the ol’ homestead by day. By night it turns into a demon pig-beast to ward off evil spirits, would be prowlers and perhaps as a reminder for their son, Harry to eat all his vegetables.
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We lost. We blew it. We lost it or New England won it but I think we lost it. It hurts. Leaving a party in Decatur the roads were quiet. Instead of honking horns, flashing lights and getting out of the car at red lights to high five complete strangers my brother and I had a stunned ride home. What could have been. Eerily silent landscape like that after a destructive storm rolls through. People not in jubilation but with the blank stares surveying the tornado’s damage.
For me it wasn’t so much that we lost. Not so much that we were so invested and are now judged to be second tier. Not that we don't get to erase a bunch of other sports failures. This Super Bowl win would have done a lot of that. For me it was the two weeks leading up to the big game. For two weeks a very divided Southern metropolis was galvanized under one mantra. You’re getting gas in your car and the person next to you is not the same age, gender, race, religion or what not but you point to the logo on your cap and they point to the logo on their t-shirt and you say almost in unison, “Rise Up!” People at work from the lowest gofer to the exec in another building on a higher floor, “Rise Up!” People you either don’t normally rub elbows with or people with just the passing interest in sports at all, “Rise Up!” We had it for two weeks. Unity. All of us under one red and black flag.
In the aftermath it feels so silly to say it or to have ever said it at all. Like fool’s gold.
Atlanta is a transient town. It boomed in the 80’s and people came from all over to the new location of new corporate headquarters. They got married, bought houses, raised families but held onto their ingrained hometown sports affiliations and Atlanta gave them little reason to change their stripes. The Atlanta Hawks have never been to the NBA Finals, The Thrashers had ten seasons and 1 playoff appearance. The Flames won the Stanley Cup but had long taken up residence in Calgary. Even the Dream failed in their multiple bids to capture WNBA glory. The Braves actually won the World Series but taught us a million different ways to have our hearts broken during the 14-year first place run..and since. The Falcons sniffed a championship back in 1999 but were clearly not the better team. This was different. We should have blown them out. And we did for a half and a half of a quarter. Then it changed. Then we lost. Most Atlanta fans knew it was over at the overtime coin flip.
Now we have to wait another full sports year to see if the Hawks (unlikely) or the Braves (still rebuilding) or the Bulldogs (unproven) can give that town where the railroad ends some long overdue sports relief. Honestly as much as you don't want to hear it, the Falcons are our next best bet to win a championship. Would we be fool enough to fall for it again? Will we believe again if we are 26 points up? Will we take the bait…again?
I think we will. We had it for two weeks. Unity. All of us under one red and black flag. Yeah, Fuck it! “Rise up!” “Rise the Falc Up!”
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End of the Line or in Atlanta terms - Terminus
No trains allowed beyond this point
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