Get me to the Concert on Time - and with a nap, please

"The best thing you've ever done for me (MARTA) is to help me take my life less seriously, it's only life after all" Indigo Girls (Emily Saliers), "Closer to Fine".

Our neighbors somehow managed to reserve a table for four at Eddie's Attic this past Thursday night and invited us to join them. How they got coveted tickets to hear the Indigo Girls at this sold out show, I'll never know. We sat at a table right next to one of our City of Decatur Commissioners, who was there with her girlfriend. At the table next to her was our City Manager. And beyond her was one half of the Indigo Girls, Emily Saliers, who was at a table enjoying the opening acts. Behind us was one of our favorite yoga teachers. In other words, we were in good company.

Doc. B. and I had a plan for Thursday. We would both try to get home from work early, fix a healthy dinner, and relax a bit before the concert. I even had in the back of my mind that I might snag a cat nap since we'd likely be out late. We were also going to do our part to save the environment by both riding MARTA home. You would think by now that we would know better than to make any of our plans rely on MARTA. Don't get me wrong, MARTA has it's good qualities. Reliabilty just doesn't happen to be one of them.

So I leave work around 4pm and as I'm walking into the MARTA station, I see that way too many people are exiting the premises. I'm expecting the typical loudspeaker announcement of "ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please; we are currently experiencing delays in our east-west rail service...". But what I hear instead is that the east-west rail service is just plain closed somewhere between where I was standing and where I was needing to go. I was being directed to join hundreds of people at a nearby bus stop where we would all wait in the sweltering heat to be shuttled to our final destination.

I knew Doc. B. would not be pleased to discover this once she arrived at the east-west transfer station from her north-south rail line. So I dug my cell phone out of my backpack and was able to reach her before she parked her car and boarded a train. We agreed that I would ride north to the Lindbergh MARTA station where she would pick me up.

The train I caught was as crowded as any Peachtree Roadrace morning and just as hot and stinky. At first I passed the time by listening in on the conversation of two Woodward Academy students. These cute 12 year old boys were intelligently discussing Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird". They thought it was cool that there was an 80 year old woman character who was addicted to morphine. I guess the teachers have to hone in on something that might actually get the students to read a classic?

Unfortunately, these two boys got off the train and were replaced by two VERY drunk, extremely smelly, likely schizophrenic, white guys. They were talking non-stop as they attempted to squeeze themselves and their trash bags of goodies onto the already crowded train. This was all while trying to keep track of their Burger King plastic cup - likely for making sure they didn't have to both drink from the next bottle of Mad Dog they were lucky enough to find.

I was impressed with the smaller and smellier of the two men in that he was able to get from "Lindbergh" MARTA station to "Johnny Depp" all in one long stream of consciousness....It went something like this:

"Okay, we need to get off at the Lindbergh MARTA station, right? Ha! Lindbergh, sounds like Limberg cheese. But I like feta cheese. MMMMM...Greek salads. With calamari. MMMMM can't have calamari without Red Stripe beer. But then again Red Strip is Caribbean. I liked "Pirates of the Caribbean II', didn't really like the first one. But Johnny Depp is sure to win all the Academy Awards for the second one."

Pretty impressive, huh?

We all finally arrived at Lindbergh. I tried to let the drunk, smelly, schizophrenics depart first so that I could be sure to walk the opposite direction. But no; they insisted that it should be ladies first. So off I went to find Doc. B. When she arrived, we decided that neither of us wanted to cook after our harrowing commutes. We grabbed dinner at a Taco Mac and made it home in time to meet our neighbors for the concert. No healthy dinner, no nap, but an adventure nonetheless.

The concert was incredible as expected...

"The less I seek my source for some definitive (or count on MARTA to get me there on time), the closer I am to fine". Indigo Girls (Emily Saliers), "Closer to Fine".