Fantasizing about “fixing” Atlanta’s traffic woes

After a morning which saw an 84-minute drive into work, and an additional 20 minute wait at Starbucks, I’m finally settled in at my desk a solid hour after when I would have preferred to have done such.

Seriously, the next time I wake up at my house and hear pelting rain and torrential downpour, and it’s a day in which carpooling wasn’t scheduled, I’m going to say I’ve contracted cholera, and call in sick.

I’m finding that my criteria of what constitutes a “good” morning grows lower and lower, and it’s getting to a point where nightmarish traffic is expected, and I’m just happy when the douchebag in front of me at Starbucks doesn’t pay with the Starbucks app, which conveniently my daily Starbucks does not have the hardware to accept in any other fashion than necessitating three minutes to punch in every single digit before the screen goes back to sleep.

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A stroll through Springfield Town Center, circa 2015

Three years after I wrote the eulogy for Springfield Mall, like the phoenix, rising from the ashes of the dead, arrived the new Springfield Mall, rechristened as Springfield Town Center.

In spite of all the criticism and sarcasm I’ve often stated when it came to the topic of Springfield Mall, it’s always because of the fact that Springfield Mall has always held a strange place in my heart. Call it nostalgia, call it reluctance to accept change, or a sentimentality of something that was a frequent setting of my childhood and teenage years, but it legitimately made me feel melancholy when I saw this place getting (partially) torn down, and effectively closed down back in 2012.

But now it’s back. And in my recent trip back up to NOVA, Huzzard took me back to our old stomping grounds, so that I could get a look at what’s become of our old stomping ground. Believe you me, I was quite excited at the idea of getting to walk around again. And much like I did in 2011, when Springfield Mall was in shambles, and barely hanging on to operational life, we took a stroll through the new place, so that I could see what all the metaphorical fuss was all about.

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Atlanta doesn’t give a shit about its south end

This morning, on my way to work I watched numerous police cars with lights blazing and sirens blaring speed past me, while I sat at an intersection.  They peeled into this shopping center that’s not terribly far from my home; but while only one of the cars went into the center itself, two of the cruisers literally drove into the grassy area and my girlfriend observed cops running upon exiting their vehicles.

As I resumed driving, wondering just what the heck was going on at this location not far from my home, several more police cruisers came flying down the road, headed to the scene of the incident.  My last count was seven cop cars in total that were seen heading there, and I couldn’t help but think that such necessity for police presence would had to have been something along the lines of armed robbery, hostages, or any other scenario that could only be construed as “very dangerous.”

Given the fact that such an incident was happening close to my place of residence, it goes without saying that I’m interested in knowing what it could possibly be.  When I got to work, I immediately started visiting all of the websites of the local media, hoping to get some answers.  WSB, FOX Atlanta, 11 Alive (NBC), CBS46 and even the oft-criticized Atlanta Journal-Constitution.  Surely, one of them should have some sort of coverage of an incident that necessitated a large quantity of police presence.

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Never stop playing

Short story shorter: Julio Franco is still getting paid to play baseball, at the age of 56, signing with a semi-pro team out in Japan.

I love Julio Franco.  Not just because he was on the Braves for a period of time in which I deemed him as a player of a cult-like status, but simply because he just kind of embodies what’s right and great about baseball in my opinion.

Julio’s basically a guy that’s been known to just love the game so much that pretty much nothing is going to stop him from playing, much less get paid to keep playing.  It’s not that he even really needs the money or anything, as he’s also known to be a conservative, deeply religious individual, so really it boils down to the fact that he simply doesn’t want to stop playing.  More power to him if there are teams out there that wish to pay him to do so.

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Blogging will never die, as long as I can help it

Impetus: A well-known blogger decides to call it quits, Mashable deems such an appropriate occasion to write a requiem for the practice of blogging as a whole.

Much like billions of people don’t know who I am, or have ever visited my URL, I have no idea who Andrew Sullivan is, nor can I say that I’ve ever read the Daily Dish.  However, I do know that in spite of putting up quite a good fight for roughly about as long as I’ve been writing stuff and posting it to the internet under my own one-man operation, Andrew Sullivan is, like millions of would-be bloggers in front of him, another quitter.

Chalk the Daily Dish up as another blog that will have the plug pulled from it, to sit dormant and collect dust until the registration on the domain is eventually forgotten, un-renewed, and transforms into a link re-direct site by an entity with the wherewithal to try and capitalize on the negligent mistake URL search.

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College football and wrestling logic, revisited

Ultimately, if it were up to me, I would have liked to have seen Oregon win the National Championship, because when the day is over, it’s always fun to see Ohio State get shit on.  But when the mighty Oregon offense simply could not accomplish anything against Ohio State’s defense, even after halftime, the writing was on the wall and I frankly didn’t even have to stay up until the finish to know that the Ducks were toast.

As a consolation prize though, however, I can apply the aforementioned wrestling logic that Virginia Tech are the uncrowned National Champions, by virtue of being the one team that actually beat Ohio State throughout the entire season.

This is where Rick Rude with Frank Beamer emerges from the curtain to shit on the championship parade being held by the Ultimate Warrior after beating Hulk Hogan to remind the Warrior that he still has his own championship victory over him, and that BCS Redemption sponsored by Snickers, the National Championship should be on the line against the Hokies.

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A resolution achieved, and then some

When it comes to New Year’s resolutions, I tend to keep them to myself.  It’s like I have a superstitious belief or something, that’s basically like if I make my resolutions known to others, then it becomes less likely to succeed.  Sometimes I wonder if other people have that kind of mindset when it comes to resolutions, regardless of the fact that those who go with the tried and true “lose weight/save money” become kind of obvious in their behaviors, but for what it’s worth, I like to keep my resolutions somewhat private, for the sake of hoping they succeed.

That being said, with a day left in 2014, I figure it’s safe to pull the veil back just a little bit to my six readers, and let the cat out of the bag to what some of my resolutions were over this year, as well as the year prior.

This time last year, I made a short post with what I had striven to be a frustrated tone, because that’s precisely how I felt when I wrote it.  It was about how I had failed to achieve my one resolution in 2013, and how I was going to give it another go in 2014, but lower the criteria, lower the bar to the absolute lowest it could possibly get.  And that if I failed to achieve it in 2014, then I would have no choice but to make some dramatic changes in my life come 2015.

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