I recently enjoyed a week in Atlanta (Buford), working the Men’s Division III NCAA Championship Golf Tournament at the Chateau Elan Golf Resort. Even though I wasn’t technically in Atlanta, I did fly into Atlanta, and for the sake of making me look cool, let’s just consider it Atlanta for the duration of this blog.
Just getting out of Los Angeles was good enough for me, but to be able to make it deep into the humid forests of the dirty south, and enjoy some good old fashioned southern hospitality, and cuisine (Applebee’s), was refreshing. I don’t care what anybody says. I absolutely love the Bible Belt. I don’t know if Georgia is considered part of the “Bible Belt,” but I’m pretty sure it is, as witnessed when I was denied trying to buy beer on the Sunday night I got into town, at the local Quik Stop, by a kid who was probably 16. I wasn’t even mad though. In a weird way, it was kind of cool. You mean to tell me there are still places on earth where morality has some merit and people don’t all wear trendy black t-shirts with skeletons and sac religious bullshit on them? Cool! Don’t even get me started on the Ed Hardy revolution that has seemed to engulf youth fashion these days. I’m not going to sit here and say I don’t own a few Ed Hardy items…but moderation goes a long way, folks.
Anyway, from the moment I got into Buford Atlanta, it was awesome. I got in my rental car (black, in honor of the chocolate city), turned it on, and the radio was already bumping HOT 107.9. I played this station about 90% of the time I was there–including pulling into the Chateau Elan–and I think they played the same 5 songs the entire time, and I think Young Jeezy was in all of them, and I think I remember it being awesome. It was refreshing to get way from Power 106 in LA, where they play west coast bullshit, most of which isn’t good. Neither was the music on 107.9 (in a traditional sense), but at least it was fun and entertaining and gets you crunk during your drive. The music selection on Power 106 in LA usually pisses me off more than the traffic I’m stuck in. But I digress.
Overall, it was a good trip. Working the golf tournament was a good way to get out of Hollywood and back to “the simple life.” It’s what I needed, and I now appreciate Los Angeles more after my week away…but I still think Chicago is a way better city than LA.
Here are a few other notable highlights from my trip:
As I mentioned before, I was denied trying to buy beer on a Sunday at a gas station, per Georgia state law. I was denied by a kid who was no older than 16. Two nights later, I went to the same Quik Stop and purchased a Miller High Life tall boy (it seemed appropriate). This time, the older gentleman at the register literally checked my ID and said, “California? You’re a looonnnggg way from home, boy.” He was friendly about it, but still, who says that? Then he asked me what I was doing there. It was at this point that this particular Quik Stop in the sticks of Georgia turned into the Belly Room at the Comedy Store on Sunset Blvd. in Hollywood, and I found myself on stage. Check out this hilarious exchange:
Quik Stop Dude: What are you doin’ out here?
Me: Working a golf tournament.
Quik Stop Dude: A golf tournament!? What kind of job is that?
Me: A good one.
Quik Stop Dude: Hee-hee. You got me some extra tickets, right?
Me: Yeah…they are…(wait for it)…in the car.
Quik Stop Dude: (an inaudible response meaning “touche”)
Okay, so you had to be there, but everybody in the Quik Stop thought I was Dane Cook. (Get it? Because it wasn’t really THAT funny, yet it got a good response for some reason.)
I picked up Applebee’s To Go (curbside). That in itself would make some of these “LA people” cringe–which makes me happy. An Applebee’s steak dinner To Go and the NBA playoffs on TV? I was happy. Get over it, elitists.
On the first practice round day of the tournament, I drove a golf cart by two golfers who were most likely members at the club and I heard one of them ask the other, “Who the fuck is that?” I still don’t know if I actually heard that, or if I was imagining it because I was out of my element, but it’s a lot funnier if they actually did.
There was a golfer in the tournament with the last name of “Nigro.” It was my job to check the scorecards at the end of each round, and the sports information director at the particular school that was hosting the tournament was helping me by reading off each of the golfer’s names, followed by their scores. Well, it just so happens that the last two days of the tournament we had at least one African-American volunteer helping us in the scoring room. So every time he would get to the name “Nigro,” he would hesitate, and just cut off after the golfer’s first name. I completely understand, but it was also pretty funny. I mean…that’s the golfer’s actual last name, and it’s not even pronounced the same as the derogatory term. What are you gonna do? Maybe it doesn’t translate to very strong comedy in this blog, but at the time, it was what this simplistic Midwestern guy might call a “Seinfeld moment.”
When I turned in my rental car and got on the shuttle to the Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson Airport, I forgot to tell the driver which airline I was flying. So when the guy sitting closest to me tried to help the driver find out by asking me, “Hey, you American?,” I just figured he was asking me if I was an American and simply responded, “Yeah.” Which was funny, considering he was asking for my airline, and was definitely American himself; decked out in Georgia Dawgs gear and speaking with a southern accent.
Overall, this trip was exactly what I needed. The slower pace; the real people; the crunk radio stations; and even the humidity. It just these small reminders that remind you what life is really about. Not the petty bullshit that people try to hold you down with. Life is about life. It’s about living. It’s about human beings. It’s about community. It’s about being the best person you can and enjoying yourself once in a while. Plain and simple. I feel like these preschool-level principles get lost in the Hollywood shuffle, and it’s sad. I love people. I love life. And for some reason, Hollywood makes me forget this. Thank God for the chance I had to get out of here for a while and realign my perspective on things.
Brian Laesch is a professional blogger when it comes to blogging about himself.