Chapter III, in which we associate with the bottom rung of the social ladder. I would call it a wake-up call, but since we don't sleep....
The plan for today was all movies all day long. See, when I went to Sundance, the film festival took over the town. I mean, like you'd get on the bus or be getting a cup of coffee and some stranger would be all, "What did you think of that weird Israeli documentary?" It was like living in some kind of Movie Town. But here, we're just another convention that happens to be in town this week, along with the Southeast Fatherhood Conference and the Georgia Oral and Maxillofacial Professional Society Retreat.
It's a little unnerving. Anyways, my plan for today was to see four movies. Just another day in Park City, but incredibly difficult in the dirty South.
After last night's shenanigans (am I the only one who thinks the increasingly late hours of these posts is somehow dangerous to my sanity? just checking) I wound up sleeping through (surprise surprise) my meticulously set alarm and so not only didn't I see the Al Franken doc, but I wasn't among the first 100 who got themselves an Al Franken bobblehead. I am very sad.
So I was able to catch up with Morgan and Laura for a 2:00 showing of Live Free or Die, a sort of New Hampshire -themed Fargo or Bottle Rocket. You know, like a mismatched band of criminals get in increasingly more trouble. I didn't want to like it, but the actors were so good, and the story so well-told, that I was won over. Please, see this movie.
After that we checked out The Glenn, a "boutique hotel" that the festival put Morgan and Laura in. How can I explain this? The Glenn is to the Sheraton (where we're staying) as The Standard is to the Holiday Inn.
I'd never heard of a "boutique hotel" before, but evidently it's like a hotel whose rooms exist only to be photographed in magazines. The shower is separated from the bedroom by a thin translucent curtain.
In all honesty, Morgan doesn't usually shower in full clothes, but it was the only way he'd let me photograph him showering. And I was all, "but it will be Artistic!"
Their amenities...
Their view.
Their bar. Which I just thought was all-hip, but Dave "Precious" Danesh (Cinematographer on the little Death) and Margaret showed up and are staying at this fauxtel. And according to Dave, all he did was order a drink and he found himself in a quasi-racial machismo battle over who was buying drinks for whom. I only mention it because it's the first incidence of racial tension I've noticed since being here.
When I was coming from liberal blue-state California to the "Deep South" I was sure the racism could be cut with a knife and spread on a Club cracker. But actually since L.A. (multicultural melting pot that it is supposed to be) is actually this geographic co-location of some 35 individual racist pockets I actually felt more integrated in Atlanta. When I go to the Root Down, I get the ol' "I shouldn't be here" vibe and I have yet to feel that here, although Dave would probably disagree. He's pretty sure he almost got his ass kicked.
Anyways, I missed yet another movie when we decided to "chill by the pool for a little bit" this afternoon. Our pool is located on the 5th floor and so has a really nice "separated from the world" vibe.
Lori and Morgan and swam and swam, while I read National Geographic (forgot my suit).
Then we had a lovely group dinner at Touch, an asian-fusion restaurant in Colony Square.
Morgan, David, and Margaret.
And again, only better, and with some Laura.
Margaret, Laura, and Ashley at Touch.
The food was fairly delicious, and the waiter, spectacular. By which I mean, able to fully explain each of the menu items and separate our tabs without ever even acting like a dick.
Dinner, unfortunately (but somewhat inevitably) overshot my next movie. (grr..) but it led us straight to the party!!!Ashley and James know how to do.
At this point I should point out the extreme difficulty the drinkers among us have endured in trying to acquire alcohol. Georgia's byzantine and draconian liquor laws have thwarted those of us unwlling to pay LA-level prices f0r cocktails. But then, Morgan broke the code. It turns out, what we call, a "liquor store" here is called a "package store" and there are so many more of those than liquor stores. This is the kind of stuff that should be in the guidebook.
Anyways, Morgan, on the way to tonight's party, delighted us drunks with a stop at the store. I mean, they had everything:
If there's anything else we need, I don't know about it.
So we finally get to the party. My day of four films has denigrated into only one film. But here we are at the afterparty, in a place called Buckhead.
Buckhead, for lack of a better comparison is sort of the Sunset Strip of Atlanta. I mean, tourists, out-of-towners, teen-agers breaking curfew, women wearing as little as they can without being arrested, I think you get the point.
The streets are filled with all sorts of Atlantans, as well as an alarming number of police.
Me and Lynette, feeling it.
James busted out his 35mm, and wound up befriending the flower man.
Me, I wanted to know the real Atlanta, so I discussed things n' stuff with these two gentlemen.
Even though cops were everywhere, a persuasive argument will still win the day:
Our club was located exactly between one called:
Yes, the Tongue & Groove, and
and one called:
Uranus.
So basically, since our club was between the Tongue and Groove and Uranus, we were really at Taint Central.
I started to get obsessed with this hand-shaped billboard:
After last call, we stumbled around Buckhead to soak up the local color. James and I (the only two who were still rocking come 3, couldn't find any action hotter than this:
We even considered hopping on board the FurBus
Anyways, James and I decided to drink our liquor and soda, and take in the local afterhours culture. We wound up spending quite a bit of time with this crackhead Tim:
I won't bore you with the machinations of a crackhead, but anyway it's now 9:45 AM and I've just finished this blog, so infer away.
Maybe tomorrow morning (today?) I'll be able to clear up my insansity.
erp,
m@x
It's a little unnerving. Anyways, my plan for today was to see four movies. Just another day in Park City, but incredibly difficult in the dirty South.
After last night's shenanigans (am I the only one who thinks the increasingly late hours of these posts is somehow dangerous to my sanity? just checking) I wound up sleeping through (surprise surprise) my meticulously set alarm and so not only didn't I see the Al Franken doc, but I wasn't among the first 100 who got themselves an Al Franken bobblehead. I am very sad.
So I was able to catch up with Morgan and Laura for a 2:00 showing of Live Free or Die, a sort of New Hampshire -themed Fargo or Bottle Rocket. You know, like a mismatched band of criminals get in increasingly more trouble. I didn't want to like it, but the actors were so good, and the story so well-told, that I was won over. Please, see this movie.
After that we checked out The Glenn, a "boutique hotel" that the festival put Morgan and Laura in. How can I explain this? The Glenn is to the Sheraton (where we're staying) as The Standard is to the Holiday Inn.
I'd never heard of a "boutique hotel" before, but evidently it's like a hotel whose rooms exist only to be photographed in magazines. The shower is separated from the bedroom by a thin translucent curtain.
In all honesty, Morgan doesn't usually shower in full clothes, but it was the only way he'd let me photograph him showering. And I was all, "but it will be Artistic!"
Their amenities...
Their view.
Their bar. Which I just thought was all-hip, but Dave "Precious" Danesh (Cinematographer on the little Death) and Margaret showed up and are staying at this fauxtel. And according to Dave, all he did was order a drink and he found himself in a quasi-racial machismo battle over who was buying drinks for whom. I only mention it because it's the first incidence of racial tension I've noticed since being here.When I was coming from liberal blue-state California to the "Deep South" I was sure the racism could be cut with a knife and spread on a Club cracker. But actually since L.A. (multicultural melting pot that it is supposed to be) is actually this geographic co-location of some 35 individual racist pockets I actually felt more integrated in Atlanta. When I go to the Root Down, I get the ol' "I shouldn't be here" vibe and I have yet to feel that here, although Dave would probably disagree. He's pretty sure he almost got his ass kicked.
Anyways, I missed yet another movie when we decided to "chill by the pool for a little bit" this afternoon. Our pool is located on the 5th floor and so has a really nice "separated from the world" vibe.
Lori and Morgan and swam and swam, while I read National Geographic (forgot my suit).Then we had a lovely group dinner at Touch, an asian-fusion restaurant in Colony Square.
Morgan, David, and Margaret.
And again, only better, and with some Laura.
Margaret, Laura, and Ashley at Touch.
The food was fairly delicious, and the waiter, spectacular. By which I mean, able to fully explain each of the menu items and separate our tabs without ever even acting like a dick.
Dinner, unfortunately (but somewhat inevitably) overshot my next movie. (grr..) but it led us straight to the party!!!Ashley and James know how to do.
At this point I should point out the extreme difficulty the drinkers among us have endured in trying to acquire alcohol. Georgia's byzantine and draconian liquor laws have thwarted those of us unwlling to pay LA-level prices f0r cocktails. But then, Morgan broke the code. It turns out, what we call, a "liquor store" here is called a "package store" and there are so many more of those than liquor stores. This is the kind of stuff that should be in the guidebook.
Anyways, Morgan, on the way to tonight's party, delighted us drunks with a stop at the store. I mean, they had everything:
If there's anything else we need, I don't know about it.
So we finally get to the party. My day of four films has denigrated into only one film. But here we are at the afterparty, in a place called Buckhead.
Buckhead, for lack of a better comparison is sort of the Sunset Strip of Atlanta. I mean, tourists, out-of-towners, teen-agers breaking curfew, women wearing as little as they can without being arrested, I think you get the point.
The streets are filled with all sorts of Atlantans, as well as an alarming number of police.
Me and Lynette, feeling it.
James busted out his 35mm, and wound up befriending the flower man.
Me, I wanted to know the real Atlanta, so I discussed things n' stuff with these two gentlemen.
Even though cops were everywhere, a persuasive argument will still win the day:
Our club was located exactly between one called:
Yes, the Tongue & Groove, and
and one called:
Uranus.So basically, since our club was between the Tongue and Groove and Uranus, we were really at Taint Central.
I started to get obsessed with this hand-shaped billboard:
After last call, we stumbled around Buckhead to soak up the local color. James and I (the only two who were still rocking come 3, couldn't find any action hotter than this:
We even considered hopping on board the FurBus
Anyways, James and I decided to drink our liquor and soda, and take in the local afterhours culture. We wound up spending quite a bit of time with this crackhead Tim:
I won't bore you with the machinations of a crackhead, but anyway it's now 9:45 AM and I've just finished this blog, so infer away.Maybe tomorrow morning (today?) I'll be able to clear up my insansity.
erp,
m@x
posted by m@x at 2:58 AM
2 Comments:
Max, how on earth did you miss taking pics of the bachlorettes with their asses on the glass! I'm only hoping James can post some here.
It should also be noted that at the Jack Rabbit we encountered Scott, one of the Animation Extravaganza filmmakers ( a film called "Loom" which was actually very good). I was complelled to buddy up to him partly for his sour demeanor (bitter is soooo sexy!) and that I felt I was the last of the great single little Death Crew. At some point our adventure went biblical with some scandalous pairing (and tripling) up. Sink or swim time for Lori.
Oh and I'm wondering.... if a liquor store is a "package" store, can I get drunk at UPS?
Man, if I could have only been a fly on the wall this night watching you and James tear it up! hahaha. I seriously love this Blog, Max. All the photos! everything! YAAAAAAAAY!
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