Here are my shots from Saturday's OutKast show. Part of a three-day, open-air festival in Atlanta's Centennial Park, #ATLast celebrated 20 years of Andre Benjamin and Antwan Patton's hip-hop service to the south, right in the heart of downtown. Shout out to the junior publicist who thought I was going to stay in the media cage and not get into the crowd. Ha! FOH.
Did you see the eerie slideshow Gawker promoted this week of dead American mall White Flint's food court? The original post came from a blog called Duck Pie, and the author points out that back in the late '70s when it was new and pretty, this now-doomed shopping center in North Bethesda, MD, was a glamorous consumer paradise hosting black tie events that were attended by the likes of Donna Karan and Elizabeth Taylor. Right. That was the '70s.
Heart & Soul: How My Friend Kirsten Ott Palladino Publicly Shamed Blue Cross Blue Shield Into Doing The Right Thing And Saving Her Life
I met and became cool with Kirsten Ott Palladino at media events, back when I was the editor of Thrillist Atlanta and she was Life & Food editor for the alternative weekly Sunday Paper. Beyond cool, she is a dedicated professional and genuine good-hearted person. But also, not really. Let me explain...
A photo of the recently closed Barnes & Noble being replaced by a store called BeautyMaster, which, in addition to cubic zirconia and wigs, sells "most of the top brands" of hair weave.
Jeffrey L. Anderson
"It's not what you put in your head that matters; it's what you put on it."--Anonymous Non-African-American Owner of African-American Beauty (weave) Shop
OK, so obviously I made that quote up, but at least that seems to be the message being sent to patrons of the Camp Creek Marketplace, which was once a moderately progressive shopping center (sushi and hibachi in East Point!) just down the street from the world's busiest airport, Hartsfield-Jackson (ATL).
Here I was thinking we might get a Trader Joe's or something at the Marketplace. Ha! Back to reality. It looks like the bean-counters are saying they've done the math, so don't even think about stopping by the former Barnes & Noble space looking for a nice long read to take on your next international flight. Actually, don't think, period. Just go buy fake hair at the newest location of BeautyMaster, "The Largest Ethnic Beauty Shopping Site in North America!"
That's right--books are dead, at least on Camp Creek. So just buy some hot glue and either some remi, yaki or that good Indian hair. Unless you're going to India, where apparently they just might catch you slipping on the bus, cut that bullshit off your head and resell it to someone who buys in bulk just to turn around and sell it to a business in East Point which'll then sell it to someone just like you. The circle of life.
Whatever... just slap that crap on your head, because you're worth it.
You can find out what the people think of the business that replaced the only bookstore I can think of in Southwest Atlanta with a weave megaplex by either clicking that "Photo Credit" link next to the image at the top, or simply by visiting Yelp. Here's what Yelper "Diedre R." had to say on a different page dedicated to BeautyMaster:
So yeah, don't expect too much outrage or anything, especially with all that "99cent jewlery" available, yo. The irony is in that beige bar at the top that says it's "in English." Headcrack!
But back to the real side of things, this is pretty sad and pathetic. Feel free to discuss. Shout out to East Point City Councilman Alexander Gothard and Jeffrey L. Anderson for sharing this image.
Ha! Just kidding; I contributed to Mayor Kasim Reed's campaign (which, let's just be real, is not in danger of failing) because the man has done a great job, especially when you consider that Mary Norwood seemed to have a good chance to beat him when he first ran (causing Lisa Borders to bow out to give Mayor Reed the clear path to victory), and now she's content to take a city council position, because duh.
Since he's done well in his first term, creating a working relationship with Governor Nathan Deal and bringing ATL's budget from -$10 million to +$100 million (thanks, Shirley!), I think Mayor Reed deserves another four years at least. I also love the fact that he's brought a gang of next-generation Atlantans into his cabinet, which has helped get more of my peers into prominent roles in city and county government. Without naming them just now, I will say that seeing friends and fellow A.U.C. alums at his reelection fundraiser party at the old Luckie Lounge (now Suite Food Lounge) means a lot. I speak from no part of racial preference when I say that I love seeing the black intelligentsia representing proudly at a political event in Atlanta. The same way I love to see the white/Indian/Native American/Asian/Latino/miscellaneous intelligentsia representing. I love it when smart, responsible people take part in the political system; at the very least it cancels out those who might support the ATL version of Ted Cruz.
Truth be told, I can't vote for Kasim anyway, since I live in East Point (and we won't even get into East Point's local politics right now...). But I support what he's done and I hope to see him run Atlanta for another four years of progress, especially if we can see the housing market continue to climb, the tech/entertainment/design sectors continue to invest in the city, and the school system get its act together.
Support Mayor Reed. And get ready for Kwanza. Or Ceasar.
UPDATE: My check must not have bounced! Here are freshly received photos of Mayor Reed and I. See him A) peeping the MJ business card; B) embracing me in appreciation of the sheer awesomeness of the MJ business card; and C) proudly posing for a photo with that "I'm Kasim Reed, and I approved this business card" look. Politics.
I am not here to recap the desolate and dry reality of this pitiful excuse for a carnival. I will not discuss how I was gypped (ha! because carnivals are run by gypsies!) for an extra dollar because they charge for two people if an adult has to accompany a child that's too short to ride an attraction by his/herself. I won't even revisit the fat woman on the concession cart who tried to charge me $5 for a caramel apple when the sign right in front of her said it was $4, and she still tried to stick to her spoken price.
I will merely turn this blog post over to my special correspondent, The Booger Bear, who will narrate a slide-story of images taken yesterday at Downtown East Point's carnival. The journalism is in her facial expressions, and the story is clear: East Point's carnival SUCKS.
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