Years, Tears, and Tides... Part Two
Years, Tears, and Tides… Part Two I have cheap moments, or rather moments I once would have referred to as being cheap. Take rental cars for example. If I'm going to be using a car for a few days to get around a city, why not get an economy car? It costs less, is easier on gas, and parking spaces are easier to get into. I've reserved economy cars on three different occasions, but have yet to drive one. Why? Because the rental agencies are always out of economy cars, forcing them to give a bigger car or SUV for the same price. Thank me later.
I pulled out of the airport in a fresh 2018 Nissan Rogue, thinking I'd drive a couple of miles, then pull over and let Junebug drive. My reasoning is that I drive for a living and she's one of the five people I feel comfortable letting drive me. But the rumblings of my empty stomach pushed food to the forefront of my mind, reminding me I hadn't eaten. As a foodie and a Traveljunkee, I have favorite spots in cities across America. Meaning that when I'm in certain cities, I'm hitting the joints I love. The Gumbo Shop and The Old Coffee Pot in New Orleans, the Southern in the Loo (not Sweetie Pie's!), and The Beautiful in Atlanta. I told Junebug we were detouring, and off to The Beautiful we went. Dig, imagine your Big Mama's cooking, or your aunties' dishes, or your wife's famous Mac and cheese, and you have The Beautiful. Real talk. Don't forget I can cook my ass off too, so when I say it's worth the trip, trust me.
There are always a group of old men sitting at the first couple of tables past the entrance. They greet incoming guests with a “Hey now” and it immediately feels comfortable. Of course there's always going to be funny moments when a group of old Black men are involved. One gentleman looked at our matching ‘Dopeness' t-shirts and his brow furrowed in a quizzical manner.
“Dopeness?” What's that?” he asked. Before I could reply, Junebug was giving an explanation.
“It's a movement and a mindset,” she began. “It's recognizing how great you are and it's a constant reminder to live your best life, and to believe that you can achieve anything. Dopeness.”
“Oh, okay,” he said. “It's like being ‘lit' or ‘turnt' all the time.”
We shook our heads in agreement, giggling at his definition. Another old guy asked “Man, where you get them words from?”
“My daughters and granddaughters,” he said. “I stay hip.”
Laughter ensued from all around, and we made our way to the food counter. Pork chops, dressing, smothered chicken, oxtails, rice, cabbage, collard greens, mac and cheese, ribs, the whole gamut of soul food on display. Due to the high volume of customers, fresh food comes out every twenty minutes or so. Junebug got salmon, and I got oxtails over rice, mac and cheese, cabbage, greens, a corn muffin, and a slice of carrot cake. Yup. She also got the banana pudding, which the cashier assured her was “the best.” He didn't say in Atlanta, or in the South, simply “the best.” Nice.
I slid smoothly into the passenger seat, adjusting it to my specifications because I was through with driving for the rest of the weekend. Junebug got on the driver's side, and we headed north to our hotel, her heavy foot reassuring me that my food would not have the chance to get cold. I felt like an old curmudgeon as I kept reminding her of the speed limit and so forth. She grinned at me and her smile was my smile, and I almost wept at the beauty of my child. Almost.
Since the mid-nineties, whenever it's just been the two of us, one musical artist has been our soundtrack. With no prompts from me, she played Jay-Z, and we sang along as she drove, and the good feelings I felt made me ignore the speed at which she was driving. At least the food would be warm.
The check-in at the Embassy Suites was pretty fast, and we were in our room within ten minutes, laying out our food on the table. As we ate, we talked of possible destinations that Saturday afternoon. I mentioned the Coca-Cola museum, or the MLK Center, and she reminded me she'd been to MLK as a kid, and didn't drink Coke. I knew that, but where could I go that would be memorable for her? As usual, the food was phenomenal. There was only one problem… the ‘Itis. Within ten minutes of finishing my food, my eyes grew heavy, my words slurred, and my movements became sluggish. I needed a nap. I apologized to my baby as I stumbled into the bedroom to pass out for a couple of hours. I promised her I'd make it up to her when I woke up. We'd go somewhere I swore. You know what she said as I fell across the king-sized bed?
“I'm right where I wanna be, with you Daddy.”
I fell asleep with a happy grin on my face…
To be continued…
