Creeking More In The ATL (with your host Nate Creekmore) Episode #42

I'm not from Atlanta, but I live here, and (because I live here) people who don't live here ask me, "Creek, what's Atlanta really like?"  I don't know what Atlanta is really like, but if you'd like to know what it's like for me I invite you to sit back and enjoy another episode of "CREEKING MORE IN THE ATL (with your host Nate Creekmore)"!!!

[I put my pants on two legs at a time just like everyone else]

The city of Atlanta is home to Hartsfield Jackson International Airport.

Many hearts have been broken in the terminals of Hartsfield Jackson, many tears have been shed.  As a matter of fact, I am responsible for breaking one of those hearts and for causing a few of those tears to be shed.  There was a girl once who was madly in love with me.  She didn't want to leave me (who would?) or the city, but I carefully and calmly explained to her that we both needed to move on with our lives and that our separation was for the best.

Man, she was devastated.

But that's a story for another time (and by "another time" I mean "never")...

Anyway, Atlanta is a beautiful city, a vibrant city, colorful and unselfconscious; but sometimes (and this is true of every urban environment) she can be overwhelming.  Her colors fade into a melancholy monochrome of gray washes and you can find yourself wading through a sea of uncaring, unfamiliar faces that dismiss you as quickly as you dismiss them.  On those somber evenings when your closest friends are unavailable (because they are busy living in other states or being married) and you feel particularly detached from anyone you know by name, solitude takes a step back into darkness and becomes isolation.  And, if you're not careful, you may not be able to find your way back out...

When this happens to me, I take the train down to Hartsfield Jackson, head for the arrivals terminal, and take my place among the crowds of folk waiting for someone.  As a spectator.

There are roughly 3 kinds of airport reunions.

The first kind is the MUNDANE REUNION.  Mundane Reunions happen when the person waiting and the person arriving barely acknowledge one another.

Maybe the whole thing is routine for them and so it isn't a big deal, or maybe they're just reserved and cool and don't allow themselves to ever get too excited in public.

The second kind of airport reunion is the TENTATIVE REUNION.  This happens when the person waiting and the person arriving don't know each other that well and so they don't really know how to act or what to say.

Tentative Reunions usually occur between people who have to pretend to find one another interesting because of some business obligation.

But the best kind of reunions, the kind that bring me down to the airport in the first place, are the EMPHATIC REUNIONS.  Emphatic Reunions happen when the people arriving and the people doing the waiting are so excited that they run at each other screaming and laughing and smiling and they don't seem to notice the world around them at all (because, for them, the whole world is that other person).

The best kind of Emphatic Reunions happen when small children are involved.  They start talking as fast as they can about every little thing in their lives (using wild gestures and sound effects) in an effort to quickly bring the arrivee up to speed on all the really important stuff.

The romantic Emphatic Reunions tend to be a bit less noisy and involve some kind of kiss (usually things don't get too sloppy, only moderate use of tongue) and/or embrace and a smile-through-tears.

But Emphatic Reunions don't have to be romantic at all.  They can be fraternal or paternal or anything else, just so long as the love is visible and undeniable.

If you keep your eyes open (and if you know where to look) Atlanta will remind you that love exists all around you; and even if you don't get to experience it for yourself, you can at least see it, and maybe that gift of sight is blessing enough.

But if you plan to come down to Hartsfield Jackson as a spectator, I'd advise against doing it too often.  Airports keep an eye out for suspicious types and if they catch on to the fact that you're never actually waiting for anyone, they'll want to ask you some questions and things can get pretty awkward for everyone...

When I get back on the train and head home, I look out the window and see Atlanta with all her lights shining against the night like Christmas, and she's as beautiful as she was when I first saw her, many years ago, passing through on the 75/85 connector as a non-resident...

Atlanta, I really like you (but I don't want to ruin it, so let's just be friends.  I don't see you in that way.  Seriously, it's not you, it's me.  I just need more space, y'know?  You deserve someone way better than me, etc, etc...).

There you have it folks, another exciting episode of "CREEKING MORE IN THE ATL (with your host Nate Creekmore)"!  Be sure and come back for the next installment wherein I fail to mention the fact that every street in the city has the word "peachtree" in it (because to do so would be too easy and I, good sir, am not a hack).